Mermaid Tears
by singsongsung
Summary: CS. "No, listen to me. I've had this conversation before. We cannot be involved if our parents are together." All Serena's rules are about to be broken. And maybe she likes it.
1. Breakdown

**A/N**: This feels like it's the infinite story I've written, but my muse does what it does. I'm a CB and NS fan, but sometimes things just write themselves...that's definitely what this did. It will be a few chapters, but not incredibly lengthy. I'm not going to say much about the plot now because I feel that everything will be made clear to you when it needs to be. This chapter is really an intro more than an actual part of the story. It begins in the later part of season one...around 1x16, I suppose, though I've played around with some of the details.

Merry Christmas! Happy Holidays.

**Mermaid Tears**

**1. Breakdown**

"Hey, sis," he greets her with a cocky smile as he enters her bedroom - without knocking, of course.

"So not in the mood, Chuck," she tells him crankily. She has way too much going on right now to deal with him. "Can you please go?" It's a longshot, but she hopes that politeness might help her case.

"No," he says simply, stretching out and lounging on her bed with so much comfort that it may as well have been his own.

"_Fine_," she growls. "Then _I'll_ go." She throws a robe on over her short, silky slip and ties it tightly. She's still not used to him in her home, her safest environment, and she feels very self-conscious of her body in his presence, aware of both what he does and what he may think of her.

"Not so fast, van der Woodsen," he says. Looping his scarf from around his neck and over his head, he throws it outward and around her body like a lasso, ensnaring her and pulling her back to the bed so that she topples down, partially on top of him.

"Let me go!" she whines. She knows she's acting childishly, but she feels young in her fear- things are falling apart and they are completely and totally out of her control.

He loosens his hold on his scarf, and, consequently, on her, but his eyes are searching. "What is it, Serena?"

"Nothing," she says, instantly averting her eyes.

"Bullshit."

"_Why_ do you even _care_?"

"You're worrying people," he states.

She challenges him, "Such as?"

"Blair. Nate." He admits both names reluctantly, as though it might get him into trouble.

"If _they_ are so concerned, then _they_ can be the ones to ambush me," she tells him hotly. "You don't give a damn, so why don't you spare us both the drama of this conversation and _go_." She yanks herself out of his grip, sitting on the edge of her bed and trying to tame the curly mess her hair has become.

He moves to sit directly behind her, sweeping her hair aside so that his warm breath tickles her skin. She shivers involuntarily. Blair told her, after the infamous limo sex, that Chuck's weakness was the nape of the neck. The thought lingers in Serena's mind now and it makes her heart pound.

Chuck trails the back of his index fingers down her neck slowly. "You're so tense," he says, almost thoughtfully.

"Chuck..." Her heart skips a nervous beat.

"Tell me," he says. It's an order, but also somehow a request. "I know you better than you think."

A lump forms in her throat out of nowhere. "I'm scared," she admits quietly, swallowing hard.

"Of me?" His lips graze the tender spot right below the lobe of her ear.

She turns her head just enough to that they are eye-to-eye and shakes her head slightly to the negative. "No." In the strangest way, she trusts him, at least in this moment. "I'm scared of…" Tears gather in her eyes and it's all happening again, replaying in her mind like a sick snuff film. The contrast between Nate's tender - if not slightly sloppy - touch and the way that Pete had groped her. The innocence with which she'd suggested they do a line, trying not to feel quite as violated as she was. The guilt and panic choking her, the 911 operator's voice in her ear (too loud, too steady), looking for help and finding only a pair of cool, calm eyes and a knowing, guiltless smile…

"Hey." Chuck has noticed her tears and he's looking at her with genuine concern. "_Tell_ me. It's okay."

She licks her dry lips. "Georgina," she gasps out. "Georgina's back."

His eyes are wide, stunned yet calculating. He places his hand over hers and she finds a comfort in that gesture that she relishes. "Let me make you a drink."

She nods, trying to convey her gratitude with her eyes.

It's only when he gets up and starts walking away that reality sets in. "Chuck, wait...it's eight-thirty in the morning!"

"Noon somewhere," he retorts with a shrug.

"We have school."

The look he gives her tells her exactly how weak he finds this excuse. "When has that _ever_ mattered?"

"I'm already hungover," she protests, one last try.

"Hair of the dog," he tells her with a smirk. His facial expression evens out and he looks at her seriously. "Whatever it is, it'll be okay."

When he says it like that, just for as econd, she takes it as truth.

~x~

"Do you remember?" she giggles, on her third - or maybe fourth - glass of champagne.

"Remember what?" he asks, indulging her. His voice is lazy and calm.

She speaks as though it's obvious: "When we were kids."

"I'm going to need something a little more specific," he says, mostly patient and only a little bit sarcastic.

"Summertime," she says with a wistful sigh. "The Captain would take us sailing, do you remember?"

He confirms that he does and refills her glass.

"Nate and Blair always stayed on the boat. Nate wanted to learn how to sail and Blair didn't want to get her summer dresses dirty."

He nods, understanding, now, where she's going with this. "You and I would run on the beaches. We were always the wild ones."

"And make sand castles," she adds, "and chase waves. Blair was afraid of that water, but I loved it. Standing there, in the waves or on the beach, it was so invigorating..._freeing_." She remembers it vividly, stealing Chuck's scarf and running off with it held high above her head. Going home with the hem of her skirts soaked and her shoes ruined. Her mother would lecture her, but she'd just take it in stride, cheeks flushed rosy red and eyes sparkling blue. Nothing could bring her down from that high, fresh air in her lungs and salt on her tongue. She hated the moment when it finally faded away.

Another memory springs to her mind and she grins. "Our sandcastle got washed away once. Do you remember? And you...you built another one for me, just like the old one." She is mildly surprised by her own recollections. "That was sweet. I didn't think that you did sweet things."

He makes an unpleasant face. "You cried. You had tear tracks practically _glittering_ on your cheeks and the sun made your hair shine like a fucking halo. What the hell else was I supposed to do?" he grumbles.

She stares at him in dizzy amazement, trying to focus as the room spins slightly before righting itself.

He doesn't respond; instead, he leans toward her. For the briefest moment she thinks he's going to kiss her, and then she realizes that he's all business. "Tell me about Georgina."

Her moods changes abruptly - she's remarkably sober in about three seconds, shaking her head no.

"Serena..."

"I can't tell you." She's desperate to make her confession, but the fear overpowers the need to let it go.

"There's nothing you've done that I haven't," he assures her soothingly, his eyes boring deep into her own orbs.

She manages a weak smile for all of a millisecond. "For your sake I hope that's not true."

Before he can respond, Lily arrives home and walks in, having heard them talking, and takes in the two teenagers sitting on the bed, still in their pyjamas, sipping champagne. "Serena! Charles!" she exclaims, shocked to see her reformed daughter and her well-groomed stepson, skipping school and drinking. "_What_ has gotten _in_ to you two?"

She can't look her mother in the eyes: she's embarrassed and intoxicated and it's obvious that she's on the verge of tears. She snatches the bottle of champagne from her step-brother and rushes past her mother, back to her own room, and hides away there for the rest of the day, drowning her grief and self-pity in liquor.

It's her old escape. It's the only one she knows.

~x~

The next day, she gets up, makes herself pretty, eats a croissant, and lets Chuck and Erik drag her to school. Chuck _knows_ something is wrong, and Erik does, too - in his wonderful, intuitive way. She knows that they haven't talked about it behind her back, though. Neither of them would do that to her. Not now.

School is as boring as ever: she gets through her Chemistry and Calculas classes without any major problems, but it hits her when the bell goes that _both_ Blair and Dan are in her next class, Shakespeare.

She doesn't want to go. She really, really doesn't want to go. She considers skipping off, just running away from it all, like she did before, but Chuck's hand appears on her right and holds tightly to her elbow, brining her close to his body. "Lily will kill you," he says simply, close to her ear. "Erik needs you. Blair can't take it if you disappear again, and I'm sure your boy toy will be disappointed as well." The last bit is sarcastic, but he's made his point: she's going to Shakespeare class.

She hangs on to the smallest thread of hope that maybe, just maybe, they'll both leave her alone. But it's a ridiculous thought, and she knows it. Blair swoops in and takes the seat next to her, gives her the third degree all throughout the lecture on _Much Ado About Nothing_ which Serena can't help but find the slightest bit ironic.

But she can't smile about it, not even a little, because Blair's commanding tone slowly fades away and her words are left with nothing but desperation. Serena can see the fear in Blair's eyes, begging her to tell her what's going on or that she's alright and that this is not going to be like last time.

She can't say anything to either effect, so when the bell rings all she can do is stand and engulf her best friends in a hug. Blair stares at her worriedly but all she says, earnestly, is "Love ya" before she flees the classroom as fast as her long legs will carry her.

"Serena, wait!"

It's Dan, of course it is, and she winces to herself, squeezing her eyes shut, before she turns around. "Hi," she murmurs.

His hands are all over her the moment he's standing in front of her. "Are you _okay_?" he asks desperately. "I haven't heard from you in so long, and I..."

"I know," she whispers. "I'm know and I'm sorry." She can't look him in the eye.

He notices this and cups her face gently in his hands, giving her _that_ look, the one that tells her just how important she is to him. "I'm not mad, I'm just...confused. And worried. Whatever it is, it's okay, you just have to tell me."

She plans on brushing it off and assuring him that she's fine, but the words that slip from her lips are different. "You can't understand," she says mournfully.

"I...what?" he asks incredulously. "Serena, you have to – "

Chuck appears all of a sudden yet again, and she realizes that he's been watching out for her all day - the mere thought of that calms her down instantly. He takes her virtually lifeless hand in his. "Get to class. That's what you were going to say, right…Humphrey?"

Dan looks back and forth between them, lonely and suspicious. The bell rings at the moment, and he can't deny the fact that they _do_ have to get to class.

"I'm sorry," Serena mouths to him, her eyes wide and sad, as she lets Chuck drag her off.

"Yeah, me too..." she hears him mutter and it makes her heart ache.

~x~

At lunchtime she sees Chuck and Dan involved in an intense argument near the staircase and rushes over to break up whatever it is, groaning internally. She distracts Dan instantly and easily with a passionate but brief kiss. "Hey. Let's get lunch, okay?"

She shoots Chuck a glare as they turn away and she hooks her arm through Dan's, plastering on her brightest smile.

She caught the words that were spoken just before she arrived: _She's been off latey, more like she was before we met, and I've been trying to think about what's changed in her life lately...and oh yeah, the Bass family moved in. _

He thinks that this is Chuck's fault and that angers her for reasons she doesn't fully understand.

~x~

She skips off last period because she can't take it anymore. Chuck is still watching over her; she assures him that she's fine and that she and Blair are going to go get ice cream. She wanders for a little bit, buys a cup of coffee and a pair of shoes that she'll probably never wear.

She's proud of herself for waiting until the sun begins to set before she walks into a bar and orders two shots.

~x~

Georgina finds her at some point and she gulps down several more drinks before they lose each other again. There was a phone call made to a dealer at some point but she doesn't think she did drugs. Her cell phone rings and rings and rings: some calls from Dan, but mostly Blair. Eventually she turns her phone off. Or maybe it dies, she doesn't remember.

Her next clear memory is of Blair's brown eyes, dark and concerned as she gently helped her stand. It's a blur: a taxi ride, stumbling up steps, sinking to the floor in an elevator and trying to make the world settle down again. It feels hard to breathe.

Then there are worried murmurings and footsteps beside her. She hears someone sigh her name and recognizes the voice as Chuck's. His arm moves around his waist as he helps her up, and then Nate is on the other side of her, gently helping her up, and then up the stairs. She throws up and her nose burns and taking her shirt off becomes a remarkably difficult process. Blair is there with her the entire time, talking quickly but soothingly, handing her glasses of water and persuading her to take a cold bath.

The water's too cold and she whines about it; she can hear Nate and Chuck discussing her just outside the door, but none of the individual words make much sense. Her nausea won't go away and Blair finally pleads for help. In the end, she finds herself sprawled out across the bathroom floor with her head in Chuck's lap as Blair presses an icy-cold cloth to her forehead and Nate takes off her shoes. She stays there until she feels like she can move without collapsing again.

~x~

When she has her act together again and her mind is fully functioning, Blair gives her a soft, cozy nightgown and a long silky robe, ties her hair back and leads her downstairs.

Dan shows up, both determined and desperate, and makes another attempt to get her to talk to him. Their conversation moves in a steady circle. He's pleading and she hates herself.

"A bartender answered your phone and said he saw you leave with two guys. Serena, all I need is a yes or a no. Did you sleep with someone else?"

She wants to say yes, to end this, to break his heart in the kindest way she can - because this would be it. Nate and Blair wait with bated breath, just as Dan does, but Chuck steps forward and positions himself between Serena and Dan. "Of course she didn't," he says decisively, and with a few more simple words and a deathly stare, he promises Dan that she'll call him later and makes him leave.

She can't get away with lying any longer. Her friends sit her down and gather around her; Blair is still right by her side. Nate and Chuck alternate between sitting and standing.

She's afraid and they try to reassure her, talking of limos and weddings and Chuck makes what should have been a joke, but isn't. Their eyes are filled with nothing but worry and support.

"We don't judge," Blair insists. "We're the Non-Judging Breakfast Club."

She takes her words to heart and sucks in some air. "The Sheppard Wedding," she sighs. "That's when it started. Blair thought Nate and I had too much to drink…"

Blair makes a face, urges her to skip over that part, and Chuck chimes in with a lewd remark. Serena glances over Blair's head and finds his eyes. He's smiling, but his eyes aren't. He's waiting, but there's no judgment.

So she tells it all. Georgina and guilt. Pete and drugs. A video camera she didn't know about - meant to tape sex, it caught something more scandalous still.

When it gets to be too much, now and then, she stops and tries not to cry and they all chime in with supportive words. Soon enough, the whole story is out there in the room, and now it's her turn to wait, searching all of their faces anxiously.

They talk amongst themselves while Blair absently plays with Serena's hair, quickly and decisively, thinking for her. She needs it, and she's grateful. She has thought about this as much as she can, and it's tearing her apart.

"It all makes sense now," Blair says comfortingly, still stroking her hair. "Everything does."

"What do I do?" she asks helplessly, her voice hoarse, thinking of Dan and his confusion, Georgina and her determination. She's shivering and shaking and this may very well be the worst hangover she's ever had. She thinks she needs coffee but the very thought makes her feel ill.

"We have to find her. We have to _fix_ this," Chuck says menacingly, and Blair nods her agreement while Nate frowns contemplatively.

"No, no…" She reaches out with both hands, both ways, grasping Blair's fingers and then Chuck's as Nate looks on worriedly. "You can't do that. If Dan found out, I…" she trails off miserably. There is no upside to any of this.

"Okay, okay," Chuck says calmly, squeezing her hand back. She glances over to him, down to where their hands are intertwined, and then back up to his face. He's going to make this better, she realizes, and it's a little easier to fill her lungs again. He's going to fix it with just the right amount of viciousness and a hell of a lot of class. She holds on to his hand tighter and lets one last tear slip from her eye.

She's okay. She's going to be okay. She's got someone on her side, holding her hand right back, promising to make this alright. Chuck has never been her main ally - frankly, he's usually more of an enemy - but she remembers walking out onto the beach, her skin tight with the tears she'd cried, and seeing that masterpiece of a sandcastle and Chuck's proud smirk.

He's helped her before. She knows that he'll do it again.

**A/N:** Thoughts? Comments? Guesses? Suggestions?


	2. Slumber

**A/N:** Thanks for your reviews. I know that some of you have questions (mostly about pairings) but I don't really want to give everything away yet. It's going to take some twists and turns; I can only hope you enjoy the ride. Thanks go to my awesome unofficial beta. Feedback is always appreciated. :)

She starts sleeping in his bed.

It all starts out very innocently, with one night, waking up in a cold sweat, tear tracks on her cheeks, visions of everything bad she's been trying to escape clouding her mind. Desperate and fuzzy-minded, she rushes to Chuck's room, curling into a ball as far from him as she can and trying to calm her breathing. She just needs to be with someone. She sneaks out of his room when the sun sneaks in through the thin curtains, and he never knows. It doesn't mean anything. It's just like when Erik was little and he'd run to her room and crawl into her bed, sniffling about monsters in his closet.

The second time, she's not so lucky. The second time is different. Chuck's a heavy sleeper, so he doesn't wake as she pulls down the covers and crawls in, cuddling close, trying not to disturb him. His body heat warms her up and his heartbeat is calming, _thud thud thud_ in his chest, close to her ear, lulling her into her first contented slumber in days.

He wakes before she can sneak out, pretend to have spent the night in her room, and huff at him for taking over her bathroom. She shifts and wakes, too, and there is a thoroughly awkward – yet somehow not overly uncomfortable – moment in which they just squint at each other, sleepily staring.

"Good morning, sis," he finally smarms, and she makes a childish face in retaliation. "Does this mean we get to take those baths together now?"

"Ugh!" she cries, so annoyed she can't even come up with a real word, and storms out, grabbing her so-called _brother_'s bathrobe and tying it tightly around herself.

"Serena!" he calls after her, using his sexy-hoarse, just-woke-up voice. She turns around, but makes sure to shoot him a glare as well.

"What?" she snaps out bitterly.

One of his eyebrows arches perfectly and she is struck, for what may be the first time, by the fact that he's actually very good-looking. Normally she's too distracted by his behaviour. "Best night of my life," he smirks.

And just like that she's annoyed again, rolling her eyes and biting back, "Oh, you _wish_, Chuck."

"That's right, _sis_, I do!" he calls after her playfully, and she giggles, though she'd never admit it to anyone that she's actually amused by him.

~x~

School gets a little bit easier, but she has trouble concentrating. Half the time, Blair and her miniature army of perfectly-groomed girls surround her, talking about both nothing and everything. She feels panicky when she's with them, just waiting for Georgina to jump out from the shadows and tell all.

Blair can sense it, and she's being the best friend Serena can ask for, maybe even better than she deserves.

"Nothing's going to happen," she says. "I'll take of it. You're safe. I'm here for you."

All she can say is, "Thanks, B. I love you." Blair may have everyone in Upper East Side under her control, but she can't monitor everything – certainly not Georgina Sparks. Serena feels guilty for every night she spent with Georgie instead of with her best friend, and it's overwhelming.

"I can't be here," she says, and she runs away, leaving Blair to stare after her, trying and failing to form a plan to fix this.

And inevitably, she runs directly into her boyfriend, who catches her and steadies her – if only he could do the same for her life. He says "hi" in his typically awkward, adorable way, and she returns the syllable breathlessly.

He hands skim down her arms and she feels a little bit grounded again. "Can you talk to me? Please, can you just talk to me?"

He looks so desperate. She understands the feeling, and she wants to make things better for him, so she nods, even though it's hesitant. "Tonight, okay? We'll talk tonight. Maybe over…dinner. At that…the place where Vanessa works?" she adds hopefully.

Dan frowns regretfully and her heart drops. "I'm supposed to meet Sarah tonight."

Serena's heart jumps right back up, lodging in her throat. "O-oh_,_" she stutters.

"I would say that you should come, but I know that you don't like her…"

"With good reason," she inputs softly. "Dan, please, I know you don't want to hear this –"

He cuts her off, his frown deepening. "No. I don't, I really don't."

"Dan…" she whispers brokenly, trailing off.

"I can't _do_ this anymore. I'm not angry with you, I'm just so _confused_. I don't…I don't want to hear anything you have to say anymore unless you can actually back it up with a reason."

"Can't you just trust me?" she begs, grabbing at his arm as he rushes away. He's wearing his usual army jacket, the one she'd wrap around herself when she got cold in his room. It's so familiar that it makes the expression he wears even worse to see.

"_Trust_ you, Serena? No, right now, I can't. Because you're lying, and partying, and hanging out with Chuck…"

"He has nothing to do with this!" she says fiercely, and realizes too late that she's being too defensive.

Dan stares at her in shock. "You…we…" He shakes his head as she looks at him, biting her lip anxiously. He pulls his arm back, shaking his head some more. "You should worry about this. About us. Because believe me, I am."

Her hand falls to her side; her fingers are shaking. She balls her hands into a fist, fingernails digging into her palm.

Blair, who sees all and knows all, is at her side in less than a minute. "S.? Are you okay? Do you want me to…" she trails off, both worried and menacing, throwing a glance toward Dan's retreating form. "Serena! Look at me; you're scaring me."

"I'm fine, B.," she says automatically, even though she's not. Even with Blair beside her, she feels alone.

A hand lands on her shoulder and makes her jump nearly a foot into the ear.

"Bass!" Blair snaps. "Look at her – now is not the time to –"

"Relax, Blair," he says calmly, and she shuts up. Serena watches the wordless exchange between them with her empty eyes. She watches Blair's eyes rake dismissively down Chuck's body, her expression annoyed, but she's _not_, Serena can tell. They grew up together. The way she looks at Chuck is more affection than anything else, though she covers it well.

Chuck's expression is similar: well-disguised meaning. He looks at her with the casually infatuated glance he bestows on nearly every female, but it's not just lust, it's deeper than that, it's like he's saying with his eyes, _I admire you; you're beautiful_.

Serena feels a stirring in her stomach and she has no clue why. She glances back and Dan is gone.

"Let's get out of here, okay?"

She jumps again, shocked. Chuck is leaning toward her, actual compassion shining out of his eyes. She nods shortly and looks at the brunette on her right. "You coming?" she whispers.

"No, I have…class." Blair admits regretfully, gesturing to their school.

Serena furrows her brow, making an obvious realization: "But so do I."

Blair and Chuck both roll their eyes and smirk at each other. Neither of them bother addressing that comment. Blair kisses her cheek and walks off, immediately immersed by her followers, and Chuck's hand falls to the small of Serena's back, guiding her into his limo.

~x~

"Do you get your car cleaned?"

He's clearly offended as he assures her that _of course_ he gets his car clean, who does she think he is?

"You're Chuck Bass," she giggles, just as he says his infamous line (_I'm Chuck Bass_) and their voices blend together on the last two words, making her smile grow just a little bit.

"Why do you want to know, anyway?"

"Because you've had sex with a bunch of sluts in this car, idiot," she sighs. "Plus Blair."

He chuckles. "She'd be pleased to have her own category." He tilts his head to the side as he reaches into the mini-fridge and pulls out a bottle of Perrier, pouring two glasses. "You seem surprisingly happy considering what a mess you were about five minutes ago."

Her smile slips away as she realizes how right he is. She was seconds away from a breakdown, and here she is, smiling, laughing with him. "I…" _I feel safe_. But she can't say that. She can't say that because it has weird implications and because she's with _Chuck Bass_ in his _limo_. "I don't know," she shrugs. "I don't know."

Of course, he doesn't buy that, and squints at her, trying to read her emotions. "Do I…_comfort_ you?" he asks as though it's a physiological impossibility.

"_No_," she scoffs, and it is _the_ absolute worst lie she's ever told. She's not looking him in the eye and her limbs are all shaky again.

"I _do_," he all but marvels. "That's…"

"Weird," she supplies with a sigh, not even bothering to contradict him. "Very weird."

"I'm not complaining," he shrugs blithely, lounging comfortably. "I'm actually really enjoying the sleepovers."

"_Chuck_," she groans, closing her eyes and pressing her hand to her forehead.

"You know," he adds in his most seductive voice. "You could add yourself to the limo list."

When she opens her eyes he's much closer to her than he was initially. "The _slut_ list?" she demands incredulously.

"No," he chuckles, "the other one. The one that Blair's on."

She sobers up immediately, all her initial giddiness fading away. "Blair's on that list, a list of her own, for a reason," she tells him solemnly. "You can deny it all you want, but she's important to you."

Chuck nods his agreement, but he's still staring at her like he's searching the depths of her mind.

"_What_?" she demands tiredly. Things tend to go in circles with him, though she's got to admit, they never get boring.

"Why do you look like that's tearing you apart? You're doing that… navy blue, puppy dog eyes…thing."

A jolt goes through her body; shock and realization, and she can tell that he feels it too.

"My life is falling apart, if you hadn't noticed," she tells him testily. "I'm worried about Georgina and Dan and…everything."

"Of course."

"Yeah."

"…yes."

She clears her throat. "Where are you taking me?"

"Home," he says quickly, just as relieved at the change of topic. "But we have to make one _small_ stop first…"

~x~

They pick up 'Nathaniel', who is skipping off American History and smells of marijuana, but Serena doesn't mind any of it. Chuck disappears to do some mysterious activity almost immediately after they walk into their empty home.

It's just Serena and Nate, sitting on the carpeted floor of the living room like they used to when they were kids. They raid the cupboards and find peanut butter there, waffles in the freezer. Nate is stoned and she's scared and silly, so they toast the frozen waffles and smear peanut butter on them, just because they can. It doesn't taste particularly good, but they eat their concoction anyway, still sitting on the floor.

Nate gets deep out of nowhere, looking right into her eyes. Her heart skips a beat like it always does when that happens. They are so similar and yet so different that there's always an electrical charge between them. "Talk to me," he says in his slow, stoned, slightly sexy voice. "Let me help you. I don't know if I've ever seen you this upset."

She shakes her head, though she's not sure why she won't open up to him. It just doesn't feel right. She lays her hand over his gently. "You don't have to worry about me."

"Of course I do. Serena…I lo –"

Her eyes go wide as saucers; she doesn't know what exactly he means by what he's supposed to say – what kind of love? Eros, philia, agape? No matter what he means, she doesn't want to hear it, she can't.

Chuck saves her by walking in at that moment, interrupting Nate. It's become the strangest system; Chuck as her saviour. But she'll take it, she needs it. He's flipping his phone closed, saying, "Nathaniel, Serena. What did I miss? …What are you _eating_?"

She ignores his latter question, focusing on the cell phone he holds. "Who were you talking to?" she asks point-blank.

"No one."

"Chuck!" she cries out in annoyance.

"Ah, the sound of my name on your lips," he sighs, leering.

She grits her teeth. She wants to whine again, but he'll only get pleasure out of it. "Who. Were. You. Talking. To?"

Chuck and Nate look at each other, almost impressed by her anger. "Blair," he finally answers. "I was talking to Blair."

She reaches up and pulls on his hand, tugging him to the floor with them.

"You could've asked," he groans, wincing.

"What're you scheming?" she demands in reply.

"Nothing." It takes only two seconds of her best death stare for him to cave: "Look, Serena, we _have_ to do something…"

"No! No, you _don't_! It'll _ruin_ my relationship with Dan, and she's…she's got that _tape_."

"Serena –" Nate tries.

"No!" she insists vehemently. "No! I appreciate that you're trying to help me, and you're being wonderful, but if you really want to help, the best thing you can do is _nothing_."

Nate's phone beeps and he pulls it out of his pocket, sighing. "Okay, Serena, if that's what you really want…"

"It is."

"Then, for now –" He glances at Chuck for confirmation. "We'll leave it alone. I've got to go, I have plans this afternoon," he adds apologetically as he gets to his feet.

She smiles up at him, thankful and sad. "Tell Vanessa I say hi."

~x~

When she turns the doorknob and lets herself into Chuck's room that night, she's surprised to see that he's awake, sitting up in bed and reading the paper, sipping a glass of…something.

"Right on time," he smirks at her. When she stares quizzically, he elaborates, "One o'clock a.m. every day for the past week. Like clockwork." He sets down his paper. "Do you have nightmares?"

"I don't really…know. I wake up and it feels like I can't breathe, but I don't know what I was dreaming."

He nods and lifts the covers on 'her' side of the bed, as though she's answered the question that will grant her entrance. She sighs, closing the door behind her and padding over to the bed in her slippers, sitting down on the mattress and swiping his glass, taking a drink.

"Orange juice," she says in surprise. Not a trace of alcohol.

"Don't sound so shocked," he says with a smirk. He takes back the champagne glass and sets it on his bedside table, reaching over to turn off his lamp.

They settle in together, lying on their backs, not touching.

"This is less awkward when you're asleep," she whispers into the darkness.

She can _hear_ his smirk. "Yeah, 'cause you like to cuddle."

She blushes even though he can't see her and half-heartedly grumbles, "I do not."

The silence is more comfortable now, and she lets out the breath she's been holding, gathering some strength. "Chuck?" she whispers vulnerably. "Do you think…"

"Do I think what?" he asks, and she hears the concern, the genuine curiosity.

"Everything…everything with Pete. Do you think it's my fault? Do you think that his…his _death_ is my…_fault_?" She's choking on her words, but she gets it out.

"Serena…" he says in shock, clearly about to assure her that it's not, so she cuts him off.

"Be honest. Please, be honest. I need to trust you right now."

He doesn't hesitate, not for a moment. "_No_," he says firmly, leaving no room for questions. "It is _not_."

And when her tears spill onto her cheeks, he reaches over, brushing back her hair gently so that the miniscule drops of salty water don't catch on the golden strands of hair, just as she whispers a _thank you_.


	3. Proposition

**A/N:** Sorry for the wait; I;m a little stressed by school right now. This is where it starts to get good. Reviews are love.

She wakes up alone in his bed, feeling much more at peace than she has in a long time, despite the way her eyes ache from the tears she's cried.

She pulls her hair into a ponytail and glances around the room for something to hold it back. She snatches up an abandoned bowtie and manages to loop it several times around her tangled gold locks. It's at that moment that she notices a tall glass of cranberry juice and a chocolate-filled croissant on the bedside table. She smiles. Sweet and sour, just the way she likes things; a girl could get used to this.

Chuck walks in, his dress shirt unbuttoned, towel-drying his hair. Her smile brightens as she pouts sarcastically: "_Aw_. Too bad. I was actually going to say yes to a joint shower today."

He points a finger toward her and scowls. "Not funny, _sis_."

"Kinda funny," she protests childishly, winking at him as she swings her legs over the side of the bed and rests her feet on the floor.

"You're feeling better," Chuck observes, but arches his eyebrows, waiting for confirmation.

"Yeah," she replies, her toes tapping out a random rhythm against the soft carpet. "Thanks,' she adds in a more serious tone of voice. She's not really used to this side of her step-brother; she's full of gratitude but is also struck by the oddness of the whole experience.

He nods and looks like he has more to say, but he's interrupted when Erik walks in without preamble.

Serena's little brother stops short and squints at them in confusion. She feels her heart pounding in her chest, feels the heat rising in her cheeks. She resists the temptation to grab the glass of juice and gulp it down. She tries to reason with herself. Erik hasn't really walked into anything incriminating. They look normal, they must.

The younger van der Woodsen speaks after what seems like an eternity; "It's seven fifteen."

Both Serena and Chuck, who'd normally have an easy, teasing remark at the ready, stare blankly back at him, wordlessly demanding, _And?_

"It's seven fifteen," Erik repeats, almost in wonderment, "and you guys aren't fighting over Serena's bathroom."

Her breath leaves her lungs in a huge gush. "Ha ha," she says dryly. When she's gotten her centre of gravity back, she stands and reaches out to ruffle his hair.

Chuck laughs deep in his throat at the sour expression Erik makes. She balks, pretending to be offended, but can't help but laugh as well as she asks, "_What_? I though messy was _cool_."

Erik and Chuck exchange a bemused look that lets her know how wrong she is. She doesn't care. She loves how good Chuck is to Erik, how god he's been _for_ Erik. She just shrugs off her blunder and smiles softly at them both. She may have no knowledge of the male hair fashions that are in vogue, but she _does_ know how good it is to have someone else looking out for Erik's well-being.

She goes back to her own room to get dressed before joining her whole family at the breakfast table. She's in a good mood. She and Erik and Chuck joke and laugh boisterously over the course of the meal while Lily and Bart look on with expressions that indicate their puzzlement, but also how pleased they are.

Erik says something that thoroughly cracks her up, so much so that her abs, throat, and cheeks positively ache. "Haven't heard that laugh in while," Chuck comments casually, but in a way that is unmistakably complimentary, and she blushes without really knowing why.

She talks so much that she doesn't have a lot of time to actually eat. She sneaks back into Chuck's room to grab the croissant before they leave.

It's a rare occasion that she rides to school in the limo with Chuck and Erik; as she sits between them, she marvels at how happy and comfortable she feels, what a natural vibe it has to it.

Erik's cell phone rings halfway through the ride. A small, private smile appears on his face and he inches away to continue his conversation.

"You looked caught." Chuck speaks quietly, leaning in so close that his breath tickles her ear.

Her head snaps toward his; their noses brush. "Excuse me?" she hisses back, making sure to monitor Erik in her peripheral vision. He's wrapped up in his phone call, oblivious to them.

"This morning," Chuck clarifies with a devious smirk. His fingers drum lightly against her bare knee. "When Erik walked in, you looked as though you'd been caught…in the act."

It crosses her mind that she should make him move his hand, but she doesn't. "And what act would that be?" she asks instead, as evenly as possible. She sounds a little bit coy to her own ears and hopes that's not how her words come across.

"Mm, well…you tell me," he suggests, voice thick.

She's saved from answering when they pull up at the school. Erik ends his phone conversation and turns back to them. Chuck's hand flies off her knee as if he's been burnt.

Erik says goodbye for the day and gets out first. Chuck follows him and holds the door for her. He manages to simultaneously close the door behind her and make her take a step back, so that her body is tapped between his and the limo. "I think you owe me an answer," he states cheekily.

"And I think you _know_ the answer," she says, lifting her chin defiantly.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It _means_…that you looked caught." She parrots his words back to him with a smirk of her own and elaborates without being asked. "When Erik turned around just now, you looked like you'd been caught…in the act."

It's as if he has some soft of supernatural sense, a magnetism that directs him toward bare skin. His fingers deftly find the space between the hem of her white shirt and the waistband of her pleated plaid skirt, kneading into her flesh just above her hipbone. He looks amused by her facial expression and the way her body's reacting; there is a light in his eyes as he lazily asks, "And what act is that?" even though his hands already seem to know the answer.

Her back presses firmly against the black vehicle and something changes, in his face, his eyes and the way his mouth is set. Her breathing gets a little shallower and a shock of anticipation courses rapidly through her body.

Blair chooses that moment to approach them; eyes flitting back and forth between the two of them, she wears an unimpressed frown. "Chuck. Serena." Her words of greeting are someone both individual and collective.

Chuck's fingers are now barely grazing her skin. "Blair," he returns, addressing the brunette in the tone they seem to reserve specifically for one another, fondness and indifference all at once.

"Hey, B.," Serena says because she knows they're both expectantly waiting for her to speak up.

"How are you, S.?" Blair asks with just the right degree of concern. She loops her arms gently through Serena's and guides her up the steps of Constance Billard and all the way to their first period class, keeping up a steady train of trivial chatter that Serena doesn't really have to tune into.

They're fifteen minutes into the definition of the derivative when she finally realizes that she was waiting for him to kiss her.

~x~

Dan is still angry. He keeps shooting her these deep, wounded glances.

She shoots him her own right back. They're at a stalemate, an impasse; no one's winning. Serena's right and she knows it. There is no way in hell that she's going to apologize, and she's starting to realize that he isn't going to be extending any olive branches soon.

Her good mood slowly fades away, but she tries to hold on to at least some of her happiness, tries to take herself back to that morning. She passes notes to Blair all through their third period French class, trying to distract herself. They talk about basic things – the gossip Serena's missed while she was busy having her breakdown, the dresses Blair wants to buy at Bendel's, little Jenny Humphrey's progress in the big bad world of the UES.

They make a shopping date and Blair promises to buy her yoghurt and coffee at lunchtime. When the class is over and the bell rings, Blair stands up and gives her an impulsive hug. It doesn't last very long, but it's obviously heartfelt.

"I'm glad you're feeling better, S. You don't have to worry about anything, you know that, right?" She smiles. "I'm just glad to have you back."

She doesn't feel as good as Blair thinks she does, but it's clear that Blair's in a good place and she refuses to ruin that. She simply smiles back and says, with as much enthusiasm as she can, "Glad to be back, B."

The hallways are quiet, emptying quickly as their fellow students rush out, making the most of their lunch hour. Blair capitalizes on the opportunity for privacy, quietly announcing, "Look…there's something I want to talk to you about."

She looks uncharacteristically nervous, so Serena musters up her sincerest smile as she dumps her books unceremoniously into her locker. "You can tell me anything. You've been a big help to me lately. Let me help you."

"Right. Yeah. Okay." Blair sighs and admits, "It's Chuck."

Serena feels herself closing off before she even has time to think about her reaction. "Oh?" she asks stiffly. "What about Chuck?"

Blair rolls her eyes, though she still looks nervous. "Come on, S., you're not that dense. You _know_ what."

An unbidden smile tugs her lips upward. "Yeah, I do. I'm sorry. So…?"

"So...I was just…I was wondering what you think. About Chuck…and…me. And what you think _he's_ thinking, about…me." She takes a deep breath, relieved to have blurted it all out, and waits.

"I…well…um…I…"

"You've been spending a lot of time with him lately," she points out.

"Yeah, he's been really great. But…you all have. I don't…I don't really know. I'm sorry," she adds, but the thing is, she's not.

Dan appears in the hallway and for the first time all day she's glad to see his brooding face. She doesn't know if he's there to pick a fight with her or to find Jenny, but it doesn't matter really, not at all. His presence alone gives her an excuse to flee. She mutters an excuse to Blair and is out of there as fast as her long legs can carry her.

~x~

Chuck is outside during their lunch hour, leaning back against his limo like he's waiting for her. She marches straight toward him without a second thought, relieved to have a focus.

He lifts his eyebrows, giving her the first word.

She plants on hand on her hip and gets right down to it. "I have Calc and Shakespeare last two periods."

"Boring," he remarks as his dark eyes meet ehrs.

She agrees: "Pointless."

"Miss-able," he says with a short, knowing laugh, smirking as he swings the door open for her.

Serena slips in, but not before catching the confusion in Nate's eyes as he watches from afar.

"So where to, sis?" Chuck smarms, inching closer to her. She stretches her legs out across the seat so that her calves rest across his laps and shrugs.

"You pick…_bro_."

He thinks it over for a moment, and she can practically see the possibilities running through his mind. Finally, he suggests something she never even considered: "Why don't we just go…home?"

She understands fully why it's such a strange proposition. Chuck's been living in his own suite at the Palace for years now. And she, she's always been a party girl, never a homebody. Always on the move, always on the run – 'home' was always empty of under renovation. It was never her safe haven.

But she realizes, as she leans back, resting her aching head against the cool glass of the tinted window, how things have shifted in her world.

"Sounds perfect," she murmurs. She lets her eyes flutter closed and feels his hand land lightly on her leg.

~x~

She goes directly to _his_ room as if it's the most natural thing in the world. He doesn't comment on that, or the fact that her things seem to be slowly moving in with her as well. She spots two of her shirts, a bra, school books, her favourite lip gloss, her monogrammed towels.

He doesn't say much at all, just makes White Russians and stretches out on the bed, mimicking her sprawled-out position.

"How are you?" he asks, and the earnest way he speaks makes her giggle like she's already intoxicated.

"Are we really going to have that conversation?"

"Guess not," he comments with a contemplative smile before musing, "You know, sis, you're much more open at night…not that I object."

She lifts her hand to whack his shoulder, but she gets tired when it's halfway there and it gently makes contact with his upper arm instead, lingering there for a moment.

He looks at her hand, furrowing his brow, and she yanks it back. She sets her drink aside and flops over onto her back in one fluid moment, letting both hands fall to cover her face as she groans. "If I just stop going to school will they pass me anyway?"

He chuckles. "Yes. They probably would."

She smiles wryly in spite of herself. "Dan would hate that."

"Dan's a Humphrey," he replies softly, but not in an insulting way; it's not meant to sting her or to put Dan down. It's just fact.

"You know what's funny?" she asks rhetorically, voice muffled behind her hands. "I thought Dan was the safe choice. The good guy."

"Serena," he says, and then stops. It takes her a moment to realize that he's about to say something he thinks she won't like. She doesn't say a word, just waits for it, basking in the shiver that shoots down her spine at the husky way he says her name. She's exhausted, and maybe a little out of it. She closes her eyes and just waits.

Finally, he begins again. "I know this isn't what you want to hear." There's a pause. "But did it ever occur to you that you're not meant to have the 'good guy'?" The last two words have a mocking edge to them.

She peeks at him through her eyelashes, opening her eyes the smallest amount. "What's that supposed to mean?" she demands, but she's too sleepy to be forceful.

"Being the good girl isn't always the best choice, you know," he states, making it clear that he didn't mean to offend her. "Not if it means making sacrifices."

"I don't understand," she murmurs, voice thick as she starts to drift off. She can't get enough sleep these days.

"You're a good person, S." His words are quiet and packed with truth, his lips close to her ear as he moved to lie next to her. "You're good to Erik and to Blair…and to me. But being a good person doesn't mean you've got to be the 'good girl'. You've been holding back since boarding school, I can _see_ it, and doesn't that make you unhappy?" There is an innocent inquiry in his voice. "Stop pretending and just let yourself be who you really are, even if it's not the girl who the 'good guy' wants. You can be good at being bad. You can have both, and I've seen it in you; I've known you forever. I know who you are."

That's the last thing she hears, words resounding in her head, echoing in her mind. With a weary sigh, she tucks her head into his shoulder and lets slumber claim her, thoughts of who she used to be flashing behind her closed eyelids.

~x~

"Serena. _Serena_."

She wakes up, bleary-eyed and fuzzy-minded, still snuggled under a couple sheets, laying sideways across her step-brother's bed. She doesn't know how long he's been up, but he looks much more alert than she does, freshly dressed and eyes alert.

"Mm?" she murmurs as she pushes herself into a sitting position, and his eyes soften as if he thinks she looks cute or something.

"Blair's here, she wants to talk to you."

She looks down at the bed she lies on, looks at her rumpled shirt, and thinks of Blair's nervousness regarding Chuck earlier. "Buy me a couple minutes, okay?" she asks absently as she hops off the bed and grabs a nearby shirt that she left there two days ago. She starts unbuttoning the blouse she's currently wearing and she notices a pause in his footfalls before he slips out the door to entertain Blair.

Serena tugs the thin black tank over her head and rushes into the bathroom. She looks fairly presentable. Her hair is wispy and looks purposefully messy, as always. She splashes some cold water into her eyes and tugs her knee socks off; she never wears those at home.

"Hey, B.," she chirps as she emerges into the living room, looking as peppy as possible.

Blair's eyes rake over her critically. "You look better," she remarks as Serena joins her on the couch.

"I _feel_ better," Serena replies strongly.

The brunette nods as Chuck stops hovering and leaves the room, giving them space to talk. "So, um…what was up with early? You completely abandoned me in the hallway." She lifts her eyebrows. Serena can tell that she's trying to hold back her judgment.

"I know, B.," she responds with a genuine apology in her voice. "It's just…I know you said not to worry, but everything's still getting me. With Georgina…especially with Dan…" She swallows hard and sighs. She's honestly upset, but the puppy dog eyes she gives her best friend are a bit of an exaggeration.

Blair softens quickly. "Serena, you should have said something."

She shrugs. "You've just been so helpful, I didn't want…I just needed to escape for a little bit," she admits truthfully, glancing down.

Blair sighs sympathetically and reaches out, opening her arms, "Come here."

Serena sinks into her hug gratefully, but feels Blair stiffen after only a few seconds. She pulls back. "What is it?"

Her friend's eyes are fixed on the back of her head. "What's that?" she asks in a strange, small voice.

She lifts her hand until her fingers find it: the bowtie that is still holding her ponytail in place. Her style has always been careless perfection, and she didn't bother changing from her original hairstyle from first thing in the morning.

"Is it…" Blair is impatiently waiting for an answer she can't seem to voice herself.

"It's just Chuck's bowtie," Serena says, struggling to remain breezy and calm. She doesn't want to hurt Blair, she really doesn't, but she's feeling viciously protective of her own heart these days, and she doesn't want to give anything away. "It's a long story…a stupid one. It's nothing."

Blair flinches and Serena winces internally as well. _It's nothing_ is always, without fail, code for something else.

"Okay," Blair says stiffly, painting on another smile, the best one she can. "I just wanted to check in with you. I have to go, Dorota's waiting, I've got things to do."

They stand at the exact same time; graciously, Serena replies, "Of course. Thanks, B."

"Yeah," the brunette says softly, and in a rapid whirl of perfume, a Birkin bag, and the movement of her long black coat, Blair disappears.

Chuck comes up behind her moments later; she jumps, startled, and mutters a couple expletives halfheartedly. She props her elbows on her knees and rests her chin in her hands, worriedly about what's just happened.

He doesn't say anything at first, just toys gently with his bowtie, still in her hair. Part of her expects him to tug it out, and she can't lie: she's relieved when he doesn't. "Everything alright?" he finally asks cautiously, and all she can do is shrug.

~x~

She feels a strange adrenaline rush, the kind that stems from the excitement of uncertainty, for the rest of the evening. It's as if her body and her subconscious have made a decision that her mind is not yet privy to; she's just waiting to catch up.

Her mother and step-father both comment that she appears more cheerful – if not a little more jumpy – than she has in days, and they're right. They both smile when she shrugs casually. Lily kisses the crown of her head and Bart touches her shoulder in a fatherly way.

They eat dinner as a family, which is a little odd – usually all three kids are out and about, and none of them are willing to eat dinner alone with their parents, it's the perfect opportunity for a well-intentioned, but nevertheless brutal, third degree on the events in their lives.

"This is a good day," she says with a quiet, blissful sigh as she eats her last bite of chocolate cheesecake, and the chorus of agreements from the others at the table make her grin.

She sits in the living room with the quiet notes of Mozart playing in the background afterward and dedicates a full hour to her Shakespeare homework even though she missed the class. It's a little different and a little harder with Dan next to her, but she feels independent and strong when she finishes on her own, blushing and giggling under the stunned look her mother adopts when she finds her _studying_ without any coercion.

At ten o'clock, she wishes Bart and Erik good night, shocking them both, and walks to her room. Her mind is finally catching up with every other part of her, and she is so jittery with realization that her hand shakes as she brushes her teeth. She ties her hair in a messy bun atop her head, still using the bowtie to keep it in place, and changes into a silky camisole and very short pale green shorts. She's so confident with her appearance that she doesn't bother glancing at any mirrors before she sneaks out of her bedroom, darts into the hallway, and meanders into Chuck's room.

"You're a little early," he chuckles when she walks in. He's just stepping out of his adjoining bathroom, toothbrush sticking out of his mouth. He's dressed down, just like she is, in plaid pyjama pants and a thin white t-shirt. She just shrugs, perching on the edge of his bed as she waits for him to finish.

He spits into the sink and reemerges, tilting his head to the side as he brushes lazily. "You've been quite the angel all evening," he remarks through a mouthful of foam.

"I was thinking about what you said," she replies softly after a pause, glancing down at the floor. "About being good. About being myself and knowing who I am. All that stuff."

"And so tonight was…" He trails off, disappearing momentarily to rinse out his mouth.

She smirks, unable to help it, when he comes back into her line of vision. "A last hurrah?" she offers with a sheepish shrug.

His eyes narrow as he smirks back, and unmistakable mischievous glint in his brown orbs. "What are you saying, Serena?"

She really does love the way he says her name. She rises from her spot on the edge of his bed and walks toward him. He's standing, leaning back against the wall, patiently awaiting her explanation. She stands right in front of him, hands at her sides, and searches his face. Sensing the change in the atmosphere, he stands up straight as well. That's when she finds what she's looking for, that's when she sees those same clues from the morning, the ways his face changes and the way her breath automatically hitches in response.

But this time she's not waiting.

It's like falling and having him catch her. She doesn't touch him. It's just a kiss, just lips and nothing more. It's _his_ hands that pulls her instantly toward him, on her upper arm and her lower back, that solidify it all. She's so relieved, so elated, that she melts into him like one would into a safety net after a fall. It's just like that feeling, descending deeply, reaching ground, no going back from the moment his lips respond to hers.

And, _oh_, it is sweet relief to be bad again.


	4. Masochism

**A/N**: I am not the world's fastest updater, and I apologize for that. Thank you so much for reading and reviewing! Hopefully I'll get the next chapter up a little faster. :)

Want.

His hand gets buried deep in her hair, right to the scalp, as her leg tightens around his waist; somehow half the buttons on her blouse are undone and she hears a muted moan, though she doesn't know if it's her own or not. The cushioned leather moulds perfectly under her back and she can barely breathe, but in a good way. She sees shapes and colours but nothing's defined in a blissful sort of blur.

Need.

Things come to a stop, the world below her halts its movements. She sighs as she relaxes her limbs, feeling lips presses firmly against her neck, then her collarbone, the last of the morning's stolen kisses.

For a couple minute she's got time to herself. Time to re-button her blouse, straighten her skirt, reapply her lip gloss, and gather her hair into a careless ponytail. She doesn't bother searching out a mirror to check her reflection. She simply turns to him and asks, "Good?"

His response is practically a growl. "Better than."

She glances her hand on the door handle, shyly shimmying away. "We can't do this."

"Now," he agrees readily. "But _later_…" He buries his head in the crook of her neck.

"Behave," she whispers as he lifts his head, lips grazing the corner of her mouth. She tugs on the handle and the driver takes his cue, swinging the door all the way open.

Blair walks over the moment she spots them, a big, buttery bag dangling from the crook of her elbow, her headband placed in her hair like a crown. She looks perfect, as per usual. "Ugh," she comments disdainfully, and they both stiffen.

"What?" he bites out.

Blair arches one eyebrow. "No need to be so hostile," she says dryly, rolling her eyes for added effect. "You two have clearly been fighting again."

Serena's nervous laughter sounds fake to her own ears. "Why would you say that?"

"Please. Look at you. The flushed cheeks, the hazy eyes…you're all flustered. And _you_," she adds pointedly to Chuck, "are clearly distracted." She glances around. "Where's your buffer?"

Serena grins, the change of subject putting her at ease. "Erik got a ride with a…_friend_." She wiggles her eyebrows suggestively, making her best friend giggle. Serena knows that she's one of the few people who can expose Blair's childish side.

"What _kind_ of ride?" Blair asks impishly. "Come on, I'll walk you to class. You can give me the dirt on the way."

"Okay," Serena agrees, a bit too eagerly.

Blair gives her a strange look. "Right. Later, Bass," she adds dismissively.

"Waldorf," he returns, attention half-absorbed by his cell phone.

Blair walks at an unhurried pace, and Serena follows her lead, chattering happily about the few details she's managed to pry out of her little brother regarding his potential suitor. The brunette listens attentively and comments appropriately, but she still looks baffled by something.

"What?" Serena demands self-consciously.

"You're very…perky. You're naturally bubbly, S., but never so…" She shakes her head. "At least, not lately." She shakes her head one more, marveling, "Arguing with Chuck sure puts you in good mood."

Serena ducks her head down momentarily, wishing she'd left her hair down to hide the colour that rises to her cheeks. "Yeah, well, I guess it's good to have an outlet for my…frustration."

~x~

Her phone vibrates halfway through her first-period class. She pulls it out of her bag, subtly checking her texts.

_Hey, sis, you want a RIDE home from school today?_

She has to bite her lip to keep from laughing aloud.

~x~

She's on her way to third period when she spots her estranged boyfriend. Dan's bitter looks have faded off as the days have gone by. Now he looks more hurt than angry; he wanders about the courtyard looking a bit like a lost puppy.

She's been so annoyed with him, but her anger has nothing on her good mood, and a strange sense of generosity wins out. She stops him in the hallway with a hesitant smile, a little bit contrite, and asks if they can talk. Hope flickers through his eyes and it doesn't take much to persuade him to skip his next class.

She takes him to the steps of the Met. It's an odd place to be with him, but she can't think of anywhere else to go, and she feels more secure on her own turf. They sit close together, knees touching.

"Are you still mad?" she asks cautiously after a silence that's not one hundred percent uncomfortable.

He sighs and taps his feet nervously. He's out of his element but he really does want to talk. "I was never really that…_mad_. You were just being so mysterious, and I…I don't want things to be like that for us, Serena."

Originally, she wasn't sure what she wanted from this conversation, a beginning or an end. He speaks so earnestly that she melts, leaning into him a bit. He loves her in such an honest, uncomplicated way. "Is there still an _us_?" she asks delicately.

His mouth doesn't move but his eyes smile. "I miss you, Serena."

The lunch bell rings. She hears it dimly, in the background, and her eyes drift away from Dan as she watches Constance and St. Jude's students spill out onto the sidewalks in pairs and groups. One particular pairing is given a wide berth by their classmates; they're easy to pick out. Chuck and Blair walk together in their ridiculously bright neon trench coats. They match. They banter easily; Chuck stops her with a hand on her upper arm and Blair rolls her eyes at whatever he suggests, but her whole body is swung toward his, all of her movements reflect what he does.

Serena can feel the two parts of her making this decision merging into one. In some ways it's masochistic, but on another level she knows she's trying to protect herself, even if it's not fair. She takes a deep breath as her hand finds Dan's. "I miss you, too."

~x~

She doesn't want to see Chuck right away. Instead, after school, she gets cappuccinos with Blair and waits patiently while her friend shops for new shoes. Blair is busy talking, busy prying. She wants to know things about Chuck and Dan, most importantly. Serena avoids her artfully, distracting her with Jimmy Choos and Manolos and other more trivial subjects. She knows that Blair has questions, but Serena doesn't have any answers.

She's still in a happy-go-lucky state of mind when she arrives at home, humming Flo-Rida to herself as she kicks off her boots. She stretches out her toes and presses her feet into the soft carpet.

Chuck is waiting for her, sitting on the couch, perfectly still like he's posing for a portrait. "Hey, sis."

She frowns. She doesn't like the look of this. "What's up with you?"

He shakes his empty glass, allowing the ice to rattle around. "I heard you're back with Humphrey."

Joining him, she tucks her legs under herself as she sits. "So?" she challenges. "You're still playing games with Blair."

Chuck smirks. "The best friend and the boyfriend," he says slowly. "Well, well. You really are making a comeback, aren't you?"

She scowls. "Blair is not your girlfriend."

"But she could be."

Serena shifts uncomfortably. "I'm not out to hurt her. I never have been."

"Neither am I," he reasons. "Blair is…complicated. I understand that."

What is unspoken is easy for her to hear. "But you _don't_ understand why I'm still with Dan."

Chuck nods. "I thought you were over that silly desire, that craving for security." He reaches toward her leg, hand sliding upward. "You've always been better suited to danger. _Drawn_ to it," he adds, his voice dipping lower. His breath tickles her ear. "Break it off with him."

She tilts her head, allowing his lips more access to her skin. "Why do you care?" she asks quietly, heart pounding as she awaits his answer."

"I don't," he lies as his lips capture hers.

~x~

Things are tense between them after Lily and Bart arrive home. Anger fuels lust, but when they can't be anywhere near each other, they remember that they're holding grudges. Erik doesn't even try to intervene; he can see that they're both fuming. Lily sighs as she looks at them, sitting on opposite sides of the couch, glowering at nothing.

"Bart is having some very important guests over for dinner this evening. I want you both dressed nicely, and I want to see _nothing_ but civility from you two. Do I make myself clear?" She arches an eyebrow as they grumble replies.

They both wear what they normally would. Chuck's in a cashmere sweater and some pants with a ridiculous print; she wears a silky red shirt and a yellow skirt made of similar material that exposes her long legs. Lily doesn't look entirely pleased with either of their outfits, but she just sighs again, long-suffering, and lets them be.

She picks at her dinner while her stepbrother sits beside her. Erik, on her other side, is caught up in pleasant conversation with one of Bart's associates. She puts down her fork. She's had enough. No one is listening, and with all these people around them, he'll have to be reasonable.

"Look," she whispers. "We can't…" She sighs. "It's not like anyone can _know_ about us."

"Is that what you want?" He's daring her to tell the truth.

"No, of course not," she responds shortly. "So…let's just leave things the way they are. It makes the most sense, doesn't it? I'll stay with Dan, and you and Blair can…be whatever you and Blair are."

"And that'll make you happy? That's all you want?"

Her eyes widen in surprise. "No," she hisses back, locking eyes with him momentarily. "That's what I want the world to see."

His smirk builds up slowly. "Having your cake and eating it, too," he remarks devilishly. "I _have_ missed bad Serena." His hand finds her leg under the table, skimming the hem of her silky skirt.

"So we have a deal?" She puts it in terms he will explicitly understand.

Chuck grins. "We do, sis."

"Oh, Lily, it's so wonderful to see how well the children get along!" a guest comments brightly, smiling at Chuck and Serena.

They smile politely in response. In her peripheral vision, she sees his shoulders shake with silent laughter.

Lily nods, sipping her wine. "They do share a really wonderful relationship," she agrees, and Serena lifts her napkin on the pretense of wiping her mouth in order to hide her smirk.

~x~

His room has become their hideout, their safe haven. They lounge on his bed in the dark after dinner. The lively conversation of the adults, who are becoming increasingly intoxicated, is hardly noticeable through the virtually soundproof walls.

Serena knows her hair is a mess, mussed and static-y from the pillow she lies back against. Her short skirt rides up a little further every time she shifts, and one of the sleeves of her shirt slips down, exposing her shoulder. Chuck's eyes are pools of darkness as he looks at her. She knows that it suits her, looking a little wild, a little undone. She's never been one to aim for perfection.

She's known for having the easy life. The world is kind to Serena van der Woodsen. It looks on her mercifully when she makes mistakes, because she's beautiful and entertaining and charming. She doesn't have to work to achieve beauty, because she wears even messes well. Her last name and her sweetest smile will get her anywhere she wants to be.

Lately she's been fighting all of that. She's been trying to prove that she's more. She didn't think that anyone really appreciated the natural side of her, the side that allows her to gain things as easily as she breathes, the side that learns from her errors but can always find more to make. But when he looks at her now, she sees nothing _but_ appreciation. She isn't meant to work toward the same kinds of achievements that people like Blair and Dan strive for; the best parts of her are displayed by her imperfections. She can be herself and still be worthy of someone. Her beauty and her love and her successes still have the same value, even when they aren't perfect.

She's somehow at her best when she's at her worst. Sort of like he is, if one takes enough time to think about it.

"You haven't said a word about Georgie lately," he murmurs lazily.

"I haven't _heard_ a word from her lately." She wrinkles her nose. "Should that worry me?"

He shrugs, his smile apologetic. "I try to know as little as I can about Georgina Sparks."

She giggles. "That's a good policy to live by."

Chuck nods sagely. "I've always thought so."

She looks at him with heavy, heady eyes. It feels like it takes her a long time to blink. She leans in, closer to him, shifting her weight until she's pressed against his side. "I want this more than I should," she confesses, sleepiness translating into honesty.

"You've had too much to drink." His voice is soothing but firm. She can't start saying things like that.

Gaining some energy, she sits up a bit and swings one legs over his body, clearly surprising him as she straddles him. "Too much to drink and not enough _you_," she agrees. She feels his chest rumble with startled, pleased laughter as she presses the length of her body against his and kisses his neck.

She never thought their relationship would hit this level. When they were younger, parents would comment that their constant bickering meant that one day, they'd get married. They were teased mercilessly, such a complicated web of relationship. Serena had a crush on Nate, Blair was determined to make Nate her husband one day, Chuck lusted after Serena, Nate remained oblivious to it all, basking in the attention the girls lavished him with. When Serena disappeared off to boarding school, those dynamics changed. Blair was suddenly the girl Chuck couldn't have, while Blair took it upon herself to claim Nate as her rightful property.

And now, here they are.

Blair was bred for the UES, like they all were, but she was the only one who'd ever truly embraced it. She was going to fulfill her destiny and love every moment of it. Nate would dutifully live out the life that had been planned for him since birth. They would work hard, achieve lots, and remain in the lap of luxury. But Serena and Chuck, who'd always been handed anything their hearts desired, were more anxious to experience everything they'd never had to chance to be without.

It feels right as his tongue skims over her lips and into her mouth, as his hands rest on her thighs. It feels right because it's just wrong enough, with half of society and their parents in the next room.

She pulls back for air, sitting up a bit as his hands move over her legs. He looks back at her, eyes at half mast. Serena leans back down, a bit closer to him. She tugs the elastic out of her hair, letting it fall in curtains on either side of her face, hiding them away momentarily. "This is so fucked up," she whispers, feeling hints of regret catching up with her. She's in too deep and it's only been three days. Her wicked side knows no boundaries.

Chuck stares back at her, wearing an expression she isn't sure she's ever seen from him before. Her breathing gets shallow as he reaches up and tucks her hair back, behind her ear, his fingers lingering against her skin. His response makes it all seem so easy and ideally sinful: "You are so fucking beautiful."

~x~

"Hey, you," Dan greets her fondly the next morning. "Uh…when did you start getting rides to school from Chuck?"

She plasters on her brightest smile. "Oh, you know," she says with a roll of her eyes. "Our parents thought it would be a good idea."

He smiles back sympathetically. "But it's not, huh?"

Serena avoids the question. "It doesn't matter. I'm here with you now." She holds his hand securely in her own as they walk up the steps. "I'm sorry, about last night. I wish I could have hung out with you, but…Bart had these people over, so…"

"It's okay. I get it."

"What'd you do?" she asks, desperately making conversation. She doesn't want to let the strained silence win.

"Nothing, really. I got coffee with Sarah."

She freezes mid-step. "You guys still hang out?" She sounds accusatory, she can't help it.

Dan gapes at her. "You can't possibly be upset about that."

"Can't possibly be upset?!" she cries, dropping his hand. "Of _course_ I'm upset."

"Are you _kidding_ me? You're keeping a thousand and one secrets from me, but I'm here, I'm with you, I'm trying to be supportive, I'm trying to understand. I hang out with a perfectly nice girl, only a friend, whom you don't like for reasons that – surprise! – you won't tell me, and _you_ get to be the one who's upset?"

When he puts it in those words, it kind of makes sense, but she can't have this argument _again_. "I know, Dan. I know this is hurting you and I hate that. One day it'll…it'll make more sense, I promise. For now, I need you to trust me. You love me, don't you?" At his reluctant nod, she adds, "So _trust_ me."

She starts crying for no real reason. She's not normally one to break down in public, she's got too much pride for that, but she's a mess. She wants him to trust her because she does have good reasons and she'd like him to have some faith in her. At the same time, she is lying to him. She's fooling around with her stepbrother and sleeping in his bed and figuring out her life with his help; keeping Dan in the dark about it all.

"Serena…" He sounds apologetic, almost all of his defensiveness gone. He reaches for her hand again, but another set of five fingers, encased in black leather gloves, gets their first, holding on to her tightly.

"I need to borrow my sister for a second," Chuck says dryly, even though they got out of the limo only minutes earlier. He whisks her away and into a secluded corner of a hallway before Dan can even open his mouth to speak.

He studies her face carefully. "Are you okay?"

She kisses him desperately, with so much force that he stumbles back a bit, gently hitting the wall behind him.

Chuck pulls back first, shock clear on his face. "Serena," he says firmly, getting her attention. She focuses on his eyes. "I'm not trying to make your life miserable."

It's one of the nicest and most honest things he's ever said to her, and she wants to kiss him again. Out of the corner of her eye, she spots Blair rounding a nearby corner. She takes a step back, but she's still clinging to his hand, afraid that things will spiral out of control again the moment she lets go.

She glances down at the scuffed toes of her Balenciaga boots. "Believe it or not, you're the only thing that's making sense."

"Not," he chooses, winking at her.

She grins in spite of herself and reveals: "Georgina's still pretending to be Sarah. She's still hanging out with Dan."

"Psycho bitch," he mutters. "What do you want me to do about it?"

"Nothing."

His eyebrows fly up. "You're sure?" When she nods, he adds, "Well…let me know when you do. It'd be my pleasure to do some damage."

She nods again. It is that one fact, above all others, that is keeping her grounded. Beneath all the pervy jokes and the trysts and the teasing about bad-girl Serena, he actually does care.

If she needs him, he's there.

As if he can read her mind, a mischievous smile twists his lips upward and he leans in close to her ear to whisper, "In _whatever_ way you wish."


	5. Guarded

**A/N:** I managed a quick update this time! :) I'm on a roll with this story at the moment. No promises for the future, though, I'm afraid. But I do try.

"Oh, Mom," Serena sighs, resting her cheek in her hand. "You look so beautiful."

Lily turns back and forth, craning her neck as she examines her reflection. "You think so?" she asks apprehensively.

"Of course!" she gushes, standing from her position on the chaise. She joins her mother in front of the mirror.

Lily looks radiant, and Serena knows from Dan's jaw-drop reaction when she pulled him aside earlier to say hello that she looks pretty damn good herself. She feels good, too. It's been a long time since she's shared a moment like this with her mother.

Lily tucks a stray piece of hair back into Serena's artfully messy bun. "You look beautiful, too, honey," she says softly, kissing Serena's cheek. "You look happier than I've seen you lately. I'm glad."

Erik raps on the door and sticks his head in. "It's time."

Serena meets her mom's eyes in the mirror. Both sets of orbs look a little watery. "I love you," she says, because it seems like the appropriate moment.

Lily looks at her adoringly and pulls her into a warm hug. After a moment, she extends an arm, beckoning Erik to join them. She holds them close and kisses their foreheads. They both smile encouragingly, giving her the benefit of the doubt even though this is wedding number four.

"This one's going to last," she promises before she releases them from her embrace.

The afternoon is beautiful, sunny with a few clouds dancing across the blue sky. The small garden is full of lilies and close friends. She cries only a little when her mother walks down the aisle, partly from emotion, partly from the glare of the sun's rays in her eyes. She spends the rest of the ceremony beaming, laughing to herself as she observed Blair and Dan sitting uncomfortably next to one another.

When vows are said, rings are exchanged, and the newlyweds share a kiss, Serena hooks her arm through her now-official stepbrother's as they follow their parents down the aisle.

"Sis," he smarms, as she'd known he would.

"I swear to God, _bro_," she growls back threateningly under her breath, but she can't stay angry. "You clean up good," she adds jokingly, because it's not as though it's a surprise. Even at the height of his debauchery, Chuck always looks good.

He leans in a bit closer. "And _you_ look like sunshine."

She smiles in wonderment, mouth open and exposing her pearly-whites. "You did not just say that to me."

Chuck places his free hand over his heart. "Forgive me." He gently unhooks her arm from his, and it's only then that she realizes that they've reached the end of the aisle, guests are beginning to disperse, and Dan is waiting for her.

"There's something…_romantic_ in the air," Chuck finishes, his voice low, before walking off as though he doesn't have a care in the world.

Dan joins her the minute he's gone. "You look beautiful."

She smiles softly even though his words sound a bit generic. She knows he means them. "Thank you."

He frowns at the spot her stepbrother just stood in. "What's up with him?"

Serena shakes her head, searching for Chuck in the crowd that's forming. "I honestly don't know."

~x~

She talks quietly with Erik as Lily and Bart share their first dance as a married couple, but when another classical piece is piped into the ballroom, someone dressed in Armani appears at her side.

"May I have this dance?" Chuck asks, extending his hand formally.

She blinks up at him, shocked. She hadn't seen this coming. Nonetheless, she's not opposed to dancing with him – though she should probably dance with Dan first.

Erik sees her hesitance and inputs, "It's tradition. The second dance. The best man is supposed to dance with the maid of honour."

She frowns at him, playfully insulted that he would take Chuck's side in a debate. "Nuh-uh!" she protests, even as Chuck grasps her hand and gently pulls her to her feet. As he drags her onto the dance floor she insists, "There is _no_ such tradition."

She gives in as he pulls her body smoothly to his. He's done all the cotillion dance classes, as they all have, and she can't deny that he moves well. _Very_ well. She tucks her head into his shoulder and lets him lead.

"There's no tradition," she murmurs stubbornly.

He laughs. "Do you know what happens tonight?"

The way he says it sends shivers down her spin. There's an enticing, almost seductive, promise in the way he speaks the words. She tries to be causal as she pulls back in order to meet his eyes. "What happens tonight?"

"The happy couple jet off to European destinations for their honeymoon, which guarantees _us_ some alone time of our own."

"Except for Erik," she points out softly, ignoring the butterflies in her stomach. "And your oh-so-attentive servants."

Chuck smiles knowingly as he steers them expertly around the dance floor. "The hired help does as they're told. I can hire them to _leave_. And Erik is much more independent then you're willing to give him credit for."

Avoiding his point, she says, "I should dance with Dan."

"Don't worry. Your date is busy dancing with mine."

Sure enough, Dan and Blair are dutifully waltzing as if they, too, feel some obligation toward tradition. Neither looks particularly happy about it; Blair, in fact, looks positively murderous even as she and Dan banter back and forth without missing a beat. Serena can't help but giggle at the sight.

"What do you have planned?" she asks before her courage dissipates.

"Whatever your heart desires," he smirks, eyes drifting down her body and back up in one smooth movement. "Whatever _any_ part of you desires."

She steps back before he can feel the body heat that springs up with her blush, patting his chest and smirking right back. "I'll let you know," she informs him coyly.

And she knows that he watches her as she walks off to offer her boyfriend an escape.

~x~

"We'll miss the plane."

Bart's patience is wearing thin. He's given them all short-but-heartfelt hugs and is satisfied with that as a goodbye. Lily is much more hesitant.

"Darling, we _own_ the plane," she tells him as she studies her children and stepson worriedly.

"We'll be fine. We're always fine," Serena reminds her mother, hoping that she doesn't sound bitter. She's not trying to hurt Lily; it's just a fact. All three of them are more than capable and entirely used to taking care of themselves.

Lily's concerned eyes land on her daughter, whose wild side has always been prominent. "You'll watch out for her, won't you, Charles?"

He nods, smirking at the way Serena glowers. "Of course…Mrs. Bass."

She smiles softly, kissing all of their cheeks one last time.

"We'll be _fine_," Serena repeats forcefully.

Lily's fingers comb through her daughter's hair, now loose and falling onto her shoulders. "You'll take care of my baby?"

Erik makes a disgruntled sound. "We'll all take care of each other. Now _go_ and enjoy your trip."

Finally, with a lot of prodding from them all, Lily's out the door. The kids wave back, say their goodbyes and their I-love-yous. When the elevator doors close, all three of them move to the windows, peering down onto the streets below as the driver piles bags into the limo. Lily blows one last kiss up toward the window, and then they're gone.

All three of them collapse on the couch, a bit deflated. It's been a long day, and that's obvious in their appearances. Erik's wearing pyjama pants and a thin t-shirt; he looks like he's ready to fall into bed. Chuck's in a button-down with the first four buttons undone and a pair of pants that are a bit worn in the knees. Serena's hair tumbles down her back, still in uneven waves from her bun, and she's wearing a lightweight summer dress. It feels as though they should be partying, but they all seem much more prepared for a quiet night of iced tea and the movie channel.

"The place is all ours," Chuck says.

"Thanks, Captain Obvious," Erik replies wearily, and Serena giggles.

Chuck rolls his eyes at them. "Three weeks," he murmurs contemplatively. "Three weeks."

~x~

The first couple days are comfortable. They stay home on Sunday, eat brunch food, pancakes and waffles and omelets all day, and watch movies to which Serena has most of the lines memorized. On Monday they all skip off school, ease Lily's worries when she calls from Venice, and act, for the first time, like a real family. They play Monopoly and let Erik win; Chuck tries to teach them how to make strawberry margaritas. Serena can't handle the blender and they require the staff's help for the first time in order to clean up the berry-and-alcohol splattered kitchen.

She showers to get the red mixture out of her hair, and Chuck 'accidentally' walks into the bathroom when she's done. She perches on the edge of the counter and kisses him in only her towel until Erik demands to know where the hell they both are. Once the youngest member of their family falls asleep in front of the TV, she and Chuck talk quietly, sipping leftover wedding champagne and playfully nudging each other's feet and elbows until they both give in to temptation. She falls asleep with her head on his chest, one leg hooked lightly over his.

On Tuesday they return to school and she knows that Dan senses something different in her.

"You seem happy," he says during their lunch break, his thumb tracing patterns on her palm. "I thought you'd be in an awful mood once your mom was gone and you were stuck with your…stepbrother."

She shrugs secretively, but she knows it's more endearing than annoying. "Chuck's…better than I've ever given him credit for, that's all," she says easily, and kisses him before he can question it.

Blair is also in an irregularly good mood. Chuck gave her a couple special glances that Serena didn't miss during his best man speech at the wedding, and Blair seems softer somehow. Calmer, less bitchy. Almost like she might be falling in love.

"What is _up_ with you, B.?" Serena asks laughingly when they buy fruit cups after school before settling on the Met's steps. She hopes there's an additional explanation for Blair's joy.

On Blair's face, her silliest smile appears, and she shrugs in a way that indicates that she knows, but she's not going to tell. "The sun's gorgeous today, huh? I'm so glad it's almost summertime!"

Blair's blissful tone sends a red-hot flash of jealousy coursing through Serena's whole body. She freezes for a moment before she can compose herself again. "Sure," she agrees, even though she can't remember exactly what her best friend just said. All she can hear is the voice that belongs to the same person who's made Blair so agreeable wringing in her ears: _you look like sunshine_.

~x~

She pulls the book he's reading out of his hands when she gets back from eating with Blair and kisses him fiercely.

"Whoa," he murmurs when he pulls back for oxygen.

"No talking," she orders, undoing his tie and throwing it over her shoulder.

His eyebrows fly up as she leans in to kiss him again. His hand skims down her side appreciatively, but he pulls away from her again, this time sooner than necessary.

His eyes bore into hers like he can read her soul. "Someone's territorial," he says, with a touch of amused amazement in his voice.

She's pushing herself up and off the couch before he can even think another thought. She grasps his tie in one hand, taking it as an odd form of punishment, and grabs his book, flinging it directly at his head.

"Hey!" he yelps when it makes contact.

"Jerk," she hisses, storming off to her room, and from then on it's war.

~x~

Erik dutifully eats dinner with them for the rest of the week. Serena feels bad for him. He looks like an innocent kid eating with parents who are on the verge of divorce. Serena and Chuck stab viciously at their food while he eats cautiously, eyeing them like they might start throwing things.

"Remember, like, _two_ days ago?" he asks hopefully, pointedly. "When we all hung out together? And everyone was happy? Wasn't that awesome?" He pauses. "We should do it again."

Chuck opens his mouth but Serena shoots him her best glare. She shoves the salad bowl toward Erik and glowers at him as well. "Eat your food," she says sternly.

~x~

From then on, Erik avoids them both unless he finds them in relatively good moods. They make sure to check in with him now and again, but otherwise leave him to his own devices. Serena would never admit it, but Chuck was right. Erik can take care of himself; she doesn't need to baby him.

She starts wearing his ties to school, hanging loosely over pristine white and pale blue short-sleeved blouses and seersucker skirts. She's not sure what message she's trying to get across, exactly, but he seems to understand it.

She occupies as much of Blair's time as she possibly can. She suggests shopping trip after shopping trip, dinners and lunches and even breakfasts. Whenever Blair tries to get out of something Serena insists that they need to bond, and Blair can't protest to that, following her obediently off to have one more drink before they head home. When she sees Chuck and Blair get into his limo together, she slides in at the last minute as well, smiling beatifically and gushing about how perfect this is, she was just thinking about how she needs a drive home.

For his part, he becomes the king of interruptions. If she's talking to Dan in the hallway, there's something he desperately, urgently needs to discuss with her. They're half-naked in her bedroom once when Chuck barges in without even a smidge of shame and announces that Lily and Bart are on the phone. Of course, once Dan makes his awkward exit, it turns out there is no phone call.

It all comes to a boil when she spots Chuck and Blair out of one of the school's windows, flirting obviously as he leads her to his limo. Serena walks out of the building – it's a brisk walk, but nowhere near a run – and calls teasingly, lightheartedly, "Hey, leaving without me?"

They both stare at her.

"You have a _test_ this period," Chuck informs her, his voice dangerously low.

Two can play his game, and he should know that, she figures as the replies cheerfully: "Well, I had to talk to you about something kind of _urgent_."

He grits his teeth and gently releases his hold on Blair's hand. "If you'll excuse us."

She scowls, bewildered, "But –"

"I'll drop by for a study session later, okay?" Serena asks, as if nothing's wrong, kissing her friend's cheek before she shoves Chuck into the limo ahead of her.

"This has _got_ to _stop_," he fumes.

Serena smirks, satisfied. He is so obviously horny. "I win," she states.

His teeth grind together. "Fine."

She leans toward him, teasingly ordering, "Say it. Say that I win."

His eyes are dark and she has to remind her body not to react when he looks at her. "You _win_," he bites out. He takes a deep breath, frowning at the gloating expression she wears. "Now what?" he demands.

Serena smiles mischievously, driving him crazy for one last moment. He's forgotten that all she wants are the same things that he does. Their immature war tactics fade away, already disregarded. They understand each other now. They're going to try to acknowledge things with some shades of reason.

She sits back, looking at him through her eyelashes. "Kiss me," she says.

And he does like there were never any other options.

~x~

"Erik's going to be home soon." She knows that this kind of kills the mood, but it needs to be said. She sighs when she feels him kiss his shoulder. She peers up at him and giggles, "This is the point when I'd normally go…home, I guess. It's been a while since I've done…this."

"This isn't that," he insists, his fingers running down her bare back, tracing her spine.

"No?" she asks, tilting her chin upward and waiting for him to elaborate.

"No," he reiterates. "Firstly, because this should have happened _years_ ago."

She rolls her eyes. "You are such a man whore," she tells him simply, daring him to contradict her.

"And yet…I've still been missing out," he reminds her.

She blushes, pressing her warm cheek into his neck.

"And," Chuck continues. "I would, at the very least, _walk_ you back to your home. I'm a gentleman."

She kicks at his calf halfheartedly. "_Right_," she says, but she's only partially sarcastic.

"Also, this isn't exactly conventional…it's kind of the antithesis of conventional. But still, it's not…_nothing_."

"No?" her voice is surprisingly small.

"No. It's somewhere…in between."

She understands that. Right and wrong, good and bad, heaven and hell. It's a combination that find itself somewhere in the middle of all those extremes. She's officially entering shades of grey.

He pulls her from her philosophical thoughts by asking, "So, _sis_…compared to Humphrey – "

"Oh, _no_," she insists vehemently, rolling away from him and covering her ears dramatically. She is _not_ about to compare sex with Chuck to sex with Dan.

"You can admit that I win," he teases. "Just say it. I win."

She sits up instead, holding the sheet to her chest. "Don't call me _sis _in bed," she groans. "Don't call me _sis_, ever."

He swings one arm over her body, pushing her backward again. She gets the wind knocked out of her for a millisecond as her back hits the mattress. She notes how his hand reaches up and catches her head before it falls into the pillow. She stores this small detail away in her mind. Chuck has a reputation for a reason, she'd readily admit that, and this was very, very good…but she thinks that this exact moment might be her favourite. She's trapped there, but in a way that feels secure.

"I'll stop if you admit that I win," he says.

She rolls her eyes. "Erik. Home. Really soon," she reminds him.

He nods, sitting up as well. In an instant he's wearing boxers again and holding one of his bathrobes out so that she can step into it. He smirks.

"Want me to walk you to your room?"

~x~

Sex changes things, but not in any typical way, of course. Nothing about them is even remotely predictable.

They're still doing their respective dances. He and Blair banter and joke, secretive smiles springing up in sync, the air around them positively buzzing with sexual tension. She's still with Dan, constantly assuring him that she's fine, kissing away his worries, trying to mimic the angelic, tinkling laugh she used to have around him. And then there's Nate, still in the picture, still in her world. Her first everything, the one that got away, her always-maybe-could've been. She tries avoiding him just because it's easy.

Not much has changed. All that happens is that they're forced to pick their sides.

Chuck chooses to remain involved. He taunts Dan, plants questions and doubts in his mind, references Serena and sex in the same sentence, annoying the hell out of her. She knows it's a test. He teases Nate, too, but not to the same degree. He's just trying to assess her reactions on as many levels as possible.

She decides to stay far, far away from the subject of _BlairandChuck_. She doesn't discuss it with either of them. She no longer interferes, simply turns around and walks away quickly if she spots them together. If Blair appears at their home, she makes the wise decision to take Erik out for coffee.

She's not stupid. She's a little too wild sometimes, but she's never lacked intelligence. She knows that one of them is going to get hurt, and it's going to be whomever it is that loses their rationality, that falls too fast and ends up in too deep.

A lot of the time, as she turns away from the school's intimidating pair, she thinks it's her.

But some days, sometimes, when Chuck eyes her as he jeers at Dan…she thinks it's him.


	6. Roses

**A/N: **Sorry for the wait! R&R, please.

"Hey, baby bro," she chirps, a bounce in her step as she sidles up to Erik and ruffles his hair.

He bats her hand away and glances over at her suspiciously. "You look…glow-y. Did I miss Dan?" he asks dryly.

Serena rolls her eyes. "Can't a girl just be happy?"

"Not _that_ happy." Mercifully, he lets it go. "Mom and Bart come back today."

"Yeah," she sighs. It's bittersweet. She's going to miss staying up until three in the morning drinking cocktails, waking up with an arm draped over her waist, pretending that what she's going right now isn't totally masochistic.

"Haven't you missed them?"

"Of course I have," she tells him, smiling kindly. "It just feels like it's going to…solidify things. Make them permanent."

"I think that's good, though," Erik says slowly. "I think this is going to last. Or at least…I hope it does."

He's so sincere in his admission that her heart melts. Even in her worst moments and on her wildest days, when she forgot to care about Blair or Nate…Erik was always her top priority, her greatest concern. She has a strong maternal side, even though it gets lost sometimes. It was always Team van der Woodsen, Serena and Erik teamed up against the world. As long as she lives, she will never forget how she felt when she'd learned that he'd tried to take his own life. She will do everything she can to protect him, to protect his happiness.

She kisses his forehead and wraps him up in an impulsive hug, selflessly picking his happiness over her own. "Me, too," she agrees, and she manages to sound like she means it.

~x~

The homecoming is all smiles and hugs. Lily cries as she embraces them and tells them how much she missed them, how happy she is to be home, how proud she is that they didn't get themselves into any trouble.

Serena's cheek flame and she demands to see pictures for something to take her mind and her mother's off of this last statement.

She goes on and on as they watch a digital slideshow of photographs on the high-quality television. She asks questions and compliments outfits, poses and scenery. She sees her mother and Bart exchange a smile; they're happy that she seems so happy.

She's sitting on a pillow on the floor, leaning back against the couch just in front of where Chuck sits. She calms down a bit when his hands make their way into her hair, unnoticeably twirling golden strands around his index fingers at a steady, soothing pace.

When their parents vacate the room in search of gifts, he leans down toward her, lips brushing the shall of her ear. "_What_ is going _on_ with you, sis? You may as well have 'guilty' stamped on your forehead and a scarlet letter pinned to your shirt."

She tries to look angry as she subtly turns toward him, but she can practically feel the ache of vulnerability radiating out of her eyes. "Everything changes now."

"No," he says. She didn't know his voice could be so comforting. "Only the rules change." He straightens up as Lily and Bart come back in.

Chuck receives a silken Italian tie that they both know she'll steal soon enough. Erik receives a jaunty French hat that's kind of like a beret; it makes him look adorably ridiculous. Serena's gift is a bracelet from Sprain, small navy-coloured stones with inlaid gold in the shape of roses.

She gasps when she opens it. "It's beautiful!" She can't get it fastened on her own, and Chuck moves to help her without being asked. He does up the clasp for her, his fingers lingering against the underside of her wrist.

He looks at it approvingly and says mutedly, "It matches you."

Lily nods, sipping her sparkling water. "Deep blue eyes and golden hair," she sighs. Her expression is one of loving pride, of gratitude that her daughter's no longer running wild, and Serena finds herself thinking, for the first time in almost two years, _oh, if only she knew_.

~x~

She storms into his room that evening after an obligatory family dinner. She's still in her black skirt and white tank top, a sweater pulled on loosely overtop, when she flings the door open and paces in, declaring, "We need to talk."

She notices too late that Erik is there, flipping through Chuck's DVD collection as he sits on the floor. He looks up at her inquisitively, his innocent eyes slowly drawing conclusions. She opens her mouth to say something, to expel all those thoughts that are too close to the truth from his mind, but the words get stuck in her throat. She catches Chuck's eyes but he, too, is speechless.

What she just said was total couple speak. The blood rushing to her cheeks, the eyes trying to focus through a haze of lust onto the more serious things. How happy she's seemed lately, how oddly blissful they both seem to think the world is. They've been so sneaky. They've been getting along to a degree.

There are a million clues. Erik isn't stupid and there are a _million clues_.

The DVDs slip from his fingers, forgotten, as he slowly gets to his feet, his eyes travelling back and forth between his sister and his stepbrother.

He knows.

He inches toward the door carefully, as though expecting one of them to pounce. "I'll leave you to…_talk_…" he mutters uncertainly before quickly ducking out the door, closing it behind him.

For a moment after Erik leaves, they just stare at each other. She searches his eyes, biting her lip, wondering if she should just turn around and leave and end this now.

But then he pats his mattress at his side, indicating that she should come and sit next to him, and she can't resist. She crosses the room, joining him on the bed, and buries her face in her hands.

He reaches out, gently tugging the sweater from her shoulders, and she lets him. His fingers feel warm against her skin, and after he throws her sweater aside, she leans into him, resting her head against his shoulder. No other parts of their bodies touch, just her forehead against his shoulder, and they make a silent agreement not to discuss it, not right now.

"What did you want to talk me about?" he asks quietly, huskily.

She presses her cell phone into his hands. "Blair has been texting me _nonstop_." Reluctantly, she lifts her head up to make eye contact with him. "What are you doing, Chuck? What are _we_ doing? She's my best friend."

"The best friend and the boyfriend," he muses once again. "Always your dilemma, isn't it?"

"This isn't funny," she snaps. "I'm not going to hurt her. Not again. I _won't_."

His eyebrows fly up. "So you want to end things. Is that what you're saying, S.?"

"No!" she says hotly, feeling a rush of unexpected emotion when he defines what they're doing as something that means enough to potentially be ended. "I'm saying that I care about her and that I _know_ you do to, so I just…I don't understand why we're doing something that could break her heart." The last part comes out in a whisper.

Chuck leans back on his palms, his expression thoughtful. "I was always jealous of Nathaniel. Did you know that? I could have any girl I wanted, but not you, and not Blair. You two were always busy competing for him."

"And now…you want us _both_?" She stares at him incredulously, but a smile sneaks onto her lips. It's just so very _Chuck_.

He gives her a smile in return that is almost exactly the same, but he takes a long moment to think before he replies, very quietly, "You mean something to me, Serena."

She's taken aback. This side of Chuck, the one with emotions and the possibility of love, is still new to her. Her head is spinning and she feels tears prick her eyes. "But I _can't_," she says, her voice hoarse. "I have done this before, and it _sucked_ then. We can't be…_anything_ if our parents are together. There's too much that's wrong. And, God, _seriously_, Chuck, Blair is my _best friend_, and I've hurt her enough." She breathes in and out shakily, unable to look at him.

"So what…do you…want…to do?" His voice is slow and husky, his warm breath hitting her cheek, and he's so sexy that whatever her reply was disappears from her mind.

Her courage returns and she remembers what it was like to live life without rules. "Kiss me," she demands. For now, she's going to pretend that this is nothing but sex.

And, damn it, she's going to enjoy every second.

~x~

"Is it Dan?"

Serena blinks at her best friend in confusion. "Sorry…what?"

"Is it Dan, sweetie?" Blair asks her sympathetically. "Is he the reason you've been staring into space all day?" She grimaces empathetically. "Things still aren't so great for you two, huh?"

She stares into her yoghurt miserably. "Well, yeah. Sure. I mean, with Georgina pretending to be someone else and everything…" She trails off. "He asked me today if I wanted to have dinner with him and…_Sarah_. I'm scared that if I don't…"

Blair fumes on her behalf. "I am going to _get_ that bitch…" she murmurs, reminding Serena of Chuck in a way that makes her heart skip an uncomfortable beat. "And Dan, what a jerk! Who does he think he is, being all judgmental with you? _Dan Humphrey_ is not perfect."

Serena swallows hard. "Actually…_I_ kind of feel like the jerk lately."

"What? Oh, S., no…_why_?"

She shrugs, her shoulders shaking. She can't answer that question. She glances up at Blair, lips trembling, tears in her eyes.

Her best friend pulls her into a hug automatically and she feels worse still. "It's going to be okay," Blair says soothingly, stroking her hair. She straightens up a bit, her body tensing up. "Oh, _no_," she growls, and Serena sits up as well, following her gaze.

"Nelly Yuki," Blair murmurs with a deathly gleam in her eyes. She turns back to Serena, touching her knee. "I love you, and you will be okay, but I have to deal with…_this_." She stands, smoothes out her skirt, and marches over to deal with her nemesis.

Serena laughs to herself sadly. She doesn't want to do anything to jeopardize her relationship with Blair. If she's going to take any risks, they have to be worth it.

~x~

When she goes to her locker after lunch to collect her books for her next class, she finds that it is overflowing with roses. There's a huge bouquet, stems tied together with lacy white ribbons. She swallows hard, well aware of who they're from. She remembers sitting with him in the living room prior to Lily and Bart's wedding, listening as the florist gave them a lesson on the symbolism of the colours of roses. She was in awe of the fact that he was actually interested. He loves more subtle, historical forms of flirtation; a woman's exposed wrists, the way she holds her fan, the colour of the roses she receives.

Most of the roses are white and a pale, coral-y pink. Secrecy and desire. Some, however, are deep, dark red, symbolic of beauty and love. Her mind can't quite process what he's trying to tell her – she couldn't put it into words.

But she knows in her heart. She feels it when she cracks open her latest Shakespearean work to find a perfectly dyed blue rose pressed within the pages, just over _Sonnet 130_. This is Shakespeare's mockery of typical love poetry, insisting that his lover does not live up to any stereotypical, flowery comparisons. This is his way of telling her that he knows all of her imperfections.

_And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare/ as any she belied with false compare_.

This is his way of telling her that he knows all of her imperfections, but that those are parts of the reason that they're doing what they're doing. She doesn't need poetry. She isn't the most mystical, beautiful creature ever to walk the earth or capture his eyes. She's wild and silly and sometimes stupid. She rarely looks into a mirror before she leaves the house and most of the time she wears his ties.

But he wants her that way.

Blue roses symbolize the unattainable.

She thinks, however, about secrecy and beauty and desire and love, and decides that just maybe, working toward the impossible is worth the risk.

~x~

"Family meeting," Lily declares as she walks by her in the hall, pausing to kiss Serena's forehead.

"Oh, Mom," she groans. "_Family meeting_? Really? What are we, on a sitcom?"

Lily sighs. "Serena, you have been such an angel lately, and I cannot even tell you how happy it's made me. We have something to discuss with all of you and I'd love it if you would go into the living room and sit down next to your brother without any further comments. Can you do that for me, darling?" she asks, arching her eyebrows. She's trying hard not to smile.

Serena smiles and bites her lower lip. "_Yes_."

Erik looks nervous when she walks into the room and joins him on the couch. Chuck sits far away from her in a chair. If anything, that confirms what her brother suspects rather than contradicting it.

They're so obvious. It would be cute if they were anyone else.

Lily and Bart sit down on the couch across from the one that Lily's two children occupy. Serena watches as his mother reaches for his hand, observes the light squeeze Bart gives it. The adults lock eyes and smile softly.

Her little brother's eyes dart between the two of them. "Are we moving?" he asks, and Serena reaches out automatically to take his hand. Erik is finally okay. He's happy, he's got Chuck, he has a boyfriend. This is not the time to uproot him.

"No, honey," Lily tells him gently. "We're not moving."

Her heart leaps into her throat. She draws the obvious conclusion before her mother can say it, mentally kicking herself and cursing the world. _Of course_ this is happening now.

"I'm pregnant," Lily announces, her smile wide and her eyes bright as she awaits their reaction.

Serena balls her free hand into a fist and allows herself to panic for just one moment. Just one.

And then she does what's expected of her. She squeals, hugs her shocked brother, leaps up and jumps and claps, pulls her mother into an exuberant hug. She babbles a mile a minute about names and nursery colours and tiny baby shoes. She teases Bart and gives him her sweetest smile as she offers up earnest congratulations.

The first moment she can, the first minute all eyes are off of her, she looks to Chuck, trying to communicate her panic through her eyes. He smiles calmly as he sips his celebratory champagne and winks at her – slow and lustful and calculating.

The rules may have changed, but the game is still the same.

~x~

She can't sleep. She's restless. She puts a DVD into her laptop but she can't concentrate on the drama in someone else's life. She tries to read but her bookmark turns out to be an old note from Dan and she just doesn't want to think about it.

She texts Nate, and though his replies start out whiny, he 'talks' to her good-naturedly for the next forty minutes, joking around and telling her about what's going on in his life as of late. He makes her smile a couple times and she relaxes a bit, but eventually, he apologetically informs her that he has a lacrosse game the next day and he really needs to sleep.

_Take care of yourself_, his last message says, and she both loves and hates that he can realize through a series of texts that something is bothering her.

It's past midnight that night when she throws off her covers and gets out of bed, tiptoeing down the hallway toward another room.

For once, her destination has changed. She pushes the door open and closes it quietly behind her, moves quickly and silently over to the bed and crawls in, stretching her legs out and sighing as she stares up at the ceiling.

"Hi," Erik whispers.

Her throat is dry and her voice cracks as she replies: "Hey."

They lie there in silence for a while before she finally manages to ask, "Do you think I'm crazy? Do you think I'm an _idiot_?"

His eyes gleam in the darkness as he turns to look at her. His expression is one full of emotion, but it's not judgment; it's all innocent worry. "Be careful," he says softly, and she has to fight the urge to cry.

Blinking hard, she glances toward the ceiling. She closes her eyes and sees blue roses.

She hates that whatever they have has been doomed from the start.


	7. Bittersweet

**A/N: **Sorry for the very long wait! Thank you for your feedback. Reviews are love.

**7. Bittersweet**

Serena and Chuck spend their Saturday night in a way they never would have dreamed they would, a way they've scorned, a way they would never ever confess to anyone else they'd spent it, a way that's sad and unexciting and lame. Lily and Bart are at some gala and Erik's out with Jonathon so they've got free reign of the apartment and the city, and with the Bass helicopter and limitless funds and many high-society connections at their disposal, they've really got free reign of the world.

But here they are. Holed up in Chuck's bedroom with popcorn and hot chocolate, lying under the covers of his bed while they watch _Cruel Intentions_ on TV. They talk quietly during the commercial breaks, mostly about the movie, but for the majority of the time they stay quiet, her head resting on his shoulder.

"Sarah Michelle Gellar's a minx," he muses aloud, and she punches his arm. She could say that she's doing it simply because he's disgusting, but they're at the point where they both know better than that.

Instead, she chooses to retaliate pettily. "Ryan Phillipe's hot."

"Please," he scoffs self-assuredly, and it makes her giggle sweetly, the first genuine laugh that's escaped her lips in a while. Chuck smiles at the sound – he tries to suppress it admirably but she notices and pokes his cheek gently.

"You're such an arrogant bastard," she criticizes him, but her words are so light that they sound more like a compliment than an insult.

He glances over, meeting her eyes. "Says the girl I'm sleeping with."

She meets his gaze bravely, a smile causing her lips to twitch up for a millisecond. Discomfort, the exact thing they've been trying to avoid, settles over them, making her squirm. Chuck plants a kiss on her temple and sneaks a hand between them and under her shirt, tickling her ribcage. She squeals and bats at his hands before attempting to retaliate, and for a moment it feels strangely pure, like they're much younger than they are and everything about their attraction to one another is genuine and simple.

Just for a moment, then the movie comes back on and she demands a truce and he gives in, and the complexity of their situation sinks in again. Serena sighs, pulling away from him and tugging her shirt down self-consciously. Being with him feels incomparably safe and also like it might break her to pieces.

Really, what they're doing, with their movie and their blankets and their silence, is hiding out. They don't want to face the world, because the world has rules, and they're breaking some of the most important ones. They've never been obedient, but this is bigger than them both and they're in denial. They both have the tendency to face their problems head on, crash and burn: Chuck internalizes and Serena flees. She knows – and he knows – that they're trying to quell those reactions and figure this out instead.

But it's kind of hard to figure out a problem that has no solution.

When Sebastian dies onscreen she sniffles and he rolls his eyes; she wrinkles her nose and elbows him. She's not sure when things got this _easy_ with Chuck, when this relaxed sense of safety she gets around him manifested itself.

"I hate how this movie ends," she whispers, curling her body a bit closer to his in spite of herself, in search of the comfort he's been so good at providing her with lately.

His fingers trace along her shoulder, bare save for the thin strap of her tank top. "Why? It's…just."

She tilts her chin upward, her eyes level with his cheekbone, so that she's glancing up slightly to make eye contact. "You don't really think that." She knows him better than to believe those words.

"Maybe I do," he says, a taunting gleam in his eyes.

Serena pushes herself up into a sitting position, so now she's looking down at him, tossing her hair back and out of her face. "Tell me what you really think," she demands, her shoulder judging his. "You _always_ do," she adds, a plea for honesty slipping into her voice.

"It's a movie, Serena," Chuck replies carefully, eyes drifting down to her lips before flicking back up to her eyes. "It doesn't matter how it ends. You _know_ that."

Glancing down, she knows she can't deny that. She isn't Blair, she's never been like this, but her eyes are stinging and her mind is spinning. She blinks a couple times, running her fingers along the seam of the blanket.

Chuck sighs beside her, hand catching hers, their fingers slipping together. "How did you _want_ it to end?" he asks, humouring her, but there is something unrecognizable in her voice.

"It's not _fair_ to her," she says softly, gesturing to the screen, where Kathryn stood a moment ago with tears in her eyes as Annette sailed away in Sebastian's beloved car. She's seen this movie many times, but it's never gotten to her quite like this. "I think she was scared, and maybe a little…misguided, but it's so obvious that she really lov –"

"Serena." His voice is soft, almost protective, as he cuts her off before she can dig herself into a hole, commit herself to impossible words. "You _do_ see the parallel that's going on here? The similarities between the plot of this movie and –"

This time, it's she that cuts him off before they can hit upon the frightening words neither of them wants to acknowledge. "I'm not a cokehead," she protests weakly, "And she's a bigger slut than I am."

He chuckles, low and affectionate. "Are you implying that you're a slut to _some degree_?"

"Chuck." She says his named mutedly, somehow stretching the single syllable out into three, emphasis on the middle one, which makes her reprimand sound more like a whine.

He smirks at her, his body leaning into hers, causing her to sink into the mattress a bit more. The blanket slips off of her upper body and he tugs it a bit further. "That wasn't a denial."

She lets him kiss her but then pulls away, unable to meet his gaze, the tears she's been fighting pooling in her eyes. Chuck kisses her neck, his hand falling onto her thigh and slipping just a bit higher.

"Our parents are married," she whispers as his other hand moves, barely grazing her skin as it glides up over her abdomen, her ribcage, and cups her breast for just a second.

"I know," he murmurs against her skin. She wants to shrug him off but she also wants to melt under his touch, and the of those two contradicting urges balance to leave her there, still.

"And they're…they're _happy_…" She trails off as he lifts his head, giving her a look that clearly says _well, you're not, are you?_ before her eyes drop closed instinctively as he leans in to kiss her eyelids.

"They're having a _baby_, Chuck," she whispers tightly as his hands push her shirt up gently before moving to tug at the tie on the pair of his drawstring pyjama pants she's stolen at some point since this _thing_ between them began. She finally moves, covering his hand with one of her own, shaking her head slightly. "_We_ are going to have a sibling."

"Still doesn't make us related," he counters her simply.

"But –"

"You knew going in that this was…forbidden. And you like it. I know you, Serena. We're so alike, and you forget it too easily. We're not doing anything wrong."

"But sometimes it _feels_ –" she stresses, but he interrupts her right again.

"If it _feels_ wrong," he mimics her huskily, "then you _like_ it that way." Before she can say another word, he kisses her hard, pressing her body into the bed, tongue battling hers mercilessly.

She whimpers into his mouth lightly before they pull apart. He tucks her hair out of her face, something near but quite not reaching tenderness in the way he touches her. His body is heavy against hers, very real, and it gives her a strange sense of security.

"If you're worried about what will happen when; _if_ we –"

They've hit a pattern today, and it's her turn to cut him off, to shield them both. "Don't," she gasps out, still breathless from that kiss. "Don't do that. Stay here. With me, right now. Just…don't think about later."

His grasps her hand in his own, and she lets her fingers trace over his palm. "Later's always going to be there, Serena," he says, his expression suddenly blank.

"So what do we _do_ about it?" she says intensely, both asking and daring him.

Chuck studies her face carefully, closes his fingers around hers so that they're both perfectly still. "You tell me," he says slowly.

Her face crumples even though she tries valiantly to prevent it from happening. For all the times she has cried in front of him, for everything she's been faced with since the two of them began whatever it is that they have, this is the most vulnerable she's ever been with him. "Will you break it off with her?" she requests quietly. It is a serious question, a meaningful one, she is asking for _more_. "With Blair. Will you end…" A solitary tear rolls down her cheek. "Will you end this game, or whatever you two play? Can we…"

"Can we what?" His eyes are searching hers solemnly.

"I don't know," she breathes.

"I…I don't either," he admits, unable to give her _more_, not now, not yet, not like this.

And maybe not ever. That is what gives her the momentarily strength to push him away, to shake her head, to pull herself away from this unworkable relationship, undefined when it should be definite, to get away –

But then he's kissing her again, even more fiercely, his hand finding the drawstring of her pants again, pulling hard, and it comes undone instantly. She wants to resist him, she really does, but there is _emotion_ in that kiss, it is passionate and heavy and almost heartbreaking and she finds herself responding with the same intensity, undoing the buttons on his shirt.

"Chuck," she hisses softly, breaking the kiss in need of oxygen, meaning to say something, but then his mouth covers hers again.

"Yes," he murmurs against her lips as she lifts her hips, letting him slip her pants off her legs, "Yes," he says once again, and she realizes that he's answering her question, he's giving her more, and it makes her sob a little before she kicks the cotton pants off of her ankles and presses her body against him, rolling them over and straddling him as she kisses him urgently, _Bittersweet Symphony_ playing quietly in the background, over the credits of the movie.

~x~

She watches his conversation with Blair the next day. She doesn't mean to, but she just happens to be turning into the quad when she spots them at one of the tables, having a heated discussion, so she slips back into the shadows and watches them.

She feels horrible, and she guesses that in some way she's looking out for them all. She doesn't want to hurt Blair again; it's the _last_ thing she wants. She doesn't want Chuck to get hurt on her account. And she just doesn't want to _hurt_ anymore.

Chuck has that intense gaze of his, the one that can see right through you, and the low tone that indicates something serious, something with actual, personal meaning. Blair's making a face Serena knows well, the one that appears when she's guarded and her voice is tight in her throat, intimidating and small all at once. Serena bites her lip as she watches them. In the end, Blair is glaring and Chuck's expression is soft, kind. She knows they're both breaking, and as he kisses her hand she feels like she might be breaking, too.

They don't look _over_, no matter what words have been exchanged. And part of her thinks they might never be. She might be falling for someone who has already fallen.

~x~

On impulse, she runs to Dan. Chuck will always have Blair, or at least, that's how it seems right now. She was being unrealistic, she was upset over that movie and they were there, in that moment. Now it's later and she's afraid, because if Chuck has Blair, she has no one.

Except for Dan. She's not exactly comforted as she steps inside his Brooklyn building, but she is relieved. Things are still tense between them, messy and confused, but the fact remains that she's Dan's dream girl. She's doesn't know what to say to him, or what she wants from him, but he'll be there, and he'll probably want things and have words to say. She breathes a little easier as she walks up to his door and lifts her fist to knock. She feels a little achy, like this isn't right, but she and Chuck are so dysfunctional and everything's been so hard lately. She needs someone who can be something _actual_ to her, not hidden, not forbidden. It doesn't have the same draw for her, admittedly, but she's lonely and Dan's always been lonely, so maybe right now they can just be lonely together.

There isn't an answer, so she tests the knob, which gives easily. The Humphreys are always casual about their space, so with one last soft knock and a tentative call of _hello? Dan?_, she lets herself in.

Barely a minute later she's racing back through that door, gloved hands pressed to her mouth, a fresh batch of tears in her eyes, because Dan isn't all that lonely after all.

~x~

"Serena." Chuck says her name intensely, pacing over to her, his eyes narrowed. "I waited for you by the limo after school, you weren't –" He stops short when he finally lets himself look at her. "What is it?" he asks, softening his tone considerably, all sharpness gone, replaced by concern.

She is tired of appearing before him in tears, so very sick of it. She's always had a wild spirit, always been good at getting herself stuck in messy situations, and he's always been good at getting her out of them, but she never used to need it so much. It is a hard place to be in, needing Chuck Bass, because he doesn't always need back and he doesn't necessarily know how to be needed.

And yet, he's here. She's here and he's here, right when she needs him once again.

"What is it?" he repeats, placing his hands on her upper arms. "Serena."

She wipes at her cheeks uselessly and he produces a handkerchief, seemingly magically, and hands it to her.

"Hey," he says quietly, pulling her close to him. She tucks her head into his shoulder and breathes in deep as he lifts a hand, teasingly tugging on the bowtie of his she's wearing in her hair, a move so boyish that she would giggle and tease him back in any other circumstances. "Today, Blair and I…well, I can't say we broke up because we were never really…but we did talk, we…"

Serena pulls back from him, her blue eyes wide and scanning over his face quickly. "You what?" she whispers disbelievingly.

He's trying to be blasé about it, she can tell, but they both know it's not working. "You asked me too, sis," he tells her with the ghost of a smirk.

She grimaces, a lump in her throat. "Dan cheated on me," she blurts out tearfully. She knows it's hypocritical to be upset, and she feels even worse about it now that she knows that Chuck actually, apparently, called it quits with Blair, but it still stings. She trusted the wrong person; she should have let herself take Chuck's word. She should have realized that whatever they have means _more_ to him, too, but it's only occurring to her now what a scary thought that there is, and there was probably a deeper reason that she chose not to believe it.

"What?" he questions in a soft, deathly tone.

"Georgina," Serena babbles, licking her lips nervously. "She's pretending – some girl from I don't even know where – she told Dan another name; I was over there, they were togeth…" Her words fade off as she finds herself being pulled into his arms again, into an embrace that's a bit too crushing to be described as a hug, but she understands it, she absorbs it greedily, burying her face in his chest.

"I don't even know why I'm…upset," she whispers brokenly after a few moments of silence. "I didn't…I didn't even love him, not anymore, I –"

His grip on her tightens even more, his head tucked into her neck, breath hot against her skin. "Don't. Don't say that."

So she stays quiet, clinging to him, and he stays quiet, holding her, because they are both too scared of the truth to express it in any other way.


End file.
